Angie
by Sparker
Summary: CHAP 19 UP! FINALLY! The Anti-Mary Sue.....this story is dedicated to all the women out there who aren't stunning.....who want to be loved for what's inside, not what they look like. Introducing Angie March.....a girl who wants the very same thing.
1. Prolouge

Disclaimer: I do not own any newsies. However, Angie IS my own personal creation, from my own delusional mind. You would pay me the greatest compliment if you would mention her (IN A GOOD WAY!) but please, ask.  
  
PROLOGUE  
  
If an outsider would see the scene, puzzlement would be the first reaction. In a world of superficial beauty and skinny models, anorexia and low-self esteem, the picture hanging in the modest townhouse on lower Manhattan would evoke wonderment.  
  
The old painting, cracking with age and low quality paint, was still a masterpiece. The people portrayed looked so real on the life-sized portrait that you were scared they were actually standing there in front of you.  
  
On the left, in the cracked gilded frame, was a handsome man, tall and broad shouldered, with sun-kissed blond hair and strong jaw. His smile was full of happiness, and his eyes were shining out at you with such love that any young girl, already smitten by the man's obvious charm, would have cause to blush.  
  
His arm was around a woman standing at his right. You could tell from her stance that she had a great personality, full of life and fun and humor. He eyes, like her husbands, were full of adoration. He smile was one of complete contentment. But at first you would not notice these things. First you would notice that scar.  
  
First you would notice that scar that ran from the woman's clear green eyes to her jaw. Then you would see the large nose, the slight overbite, the rather plum figure. You would see these things, and wonder, "What's a guy like that doing with a girl like her?" With interest, you would look at the small plague that was tacked underneath the frame.  
  
Jack Kelly (1882 - 1968), with his wife, the beloved Angie March Kelly, (1884-1972). This is what was etched onto the faded bronze.  
  
You would look again, more carefully this time. You would decide, perhaps, that the woman's face wasn't "so bad" - it was an altogether pleasant face, really. But still, you would argue with yourself...but still. That man looks like a heartbreaker. What did he see in a perfectly ordinary girl like that? He could have had anyone, you're sure. With a shrug, you would turn away.  
  
Turning away, you would walk out of the Kelly Museum and into the bright sunshine of a New York City fall day. You would walk out, your heels clicking on the pavement, sucked into the hustle and bustle. You would walk out, and you would wonder. 


	2. Memories

Angie March barreled down the street, pushing past street vendors and women with baby carriages, knocking a stand of fruit down in her hast to reach the Manhattan Lodging House. Pushing her short goldy-brown hair out of her eyes, she scratched the scar that ran from he right eye to her jawbone absently as he hand moved over her face.  
  
The scar had once been a source of shame for her. She was over it now (or at least, she liked to think she was) yet she still had never told anyone how she got it. She never planned to.  
  
It was bad enough that she had inherited her uncle's husky build and her father's short stature, he grandfather's long nose and her aunt's overbite. Something from every part of the family, she though bitterly. Everything that was wrong with them, G-d put together to create me, little old Angie March.  
  
Angie March, although harboring sad and angry thoughts at the moment, something she did from time to time, was usually a very cheerful person. Being the "fat kid" growing up, she realized that making fun of yourself and being witty made people forget about your looks, and focus on your insides. The pain was still there, years of scars and abuse rained down at her by her mother. Already in a foul mood, Angie's mind wandered to worse times....  
  
"Why did G-d see fit to give me such a child?" Angie's mother would often say, twisting Angie's face towards her with abrupt little movements. Pinching her daughter's soft belly, she would sigh with disgust and drop her long, slender fingers, often to pick them right back up and run them along her own long, white arm.  
  
"Why couldn't you just try, Angie darling?" Her mother, Ida, would murmur. She had been the belle of Southern society in her day, before Angie's father had come and swept her off her feet. She had been, and still was, breathtakingly beautiful, with wavy black hair and bright green eyes, the only feature that Angie had inherited from her mother. She never let a day pass without reminding Angie what she was doing wrong.  
  
It wasn't that Angie was a tomboy. Far from it. She was tough and strong, yes, especially since she had run away last year. Living with the newsies...they never let you off your guard, she thought with a grin, drifting away from her memories for a moment. Spacing in, she realized that she had awhile before she arrived at the LH. Slowing down a bit, she allowed he mind to take her down memory lane once again.  
  
Angie always tried to be what her mother wanted her to be. Makeup and hair curlers, corsets and frilly dresses all were used at one point. But nothing was ever good enough, no, not for Ida. Angie was always too fat, too ugly, and with such a nose!  
  
Speaking of noses...the one person who loved her, the man with the majestic nose, was never home to help her. He was always away on business. Angie knew that he had many mistresses, but with a woman like Ida as a wife, who could blame him?  
  
She had a best friend too, at one point. Someone to go out with, to giggle at the silly boys who threw dirt at them and chased them down the street. Her name was Catherine Adams, a blue-blooded Yank through and through. A descendant of the Presidential Adams', in fact. She was rich and pretty, and beyond charming when she had wanted to be. But Angie had been naive, trusting another person with her heart like that. She would never make that mistake again.  
  
She remembered the night Cat, as Angie liked to call her, betrayed her. Caused her to receive the scar. Allowed for her to be broken and beaten and beyond hope, while looking away with cold blue eyes.  
  
The memories made Angie stop in her tracks, suddenly cold. She could see the LH in the distance, but what she had rushed to tell Racetrack a few minutes ago no longer seemed so important.  
  
Angie didn't allow herself to be sucked into the vacuum she called her memory bank too often. She wouldn't be able to go on otherwise, living day to day off pity paper sells. The looks the woman gave her as they took in her worn skirt, patched blouse and her face.  
  
Christ, her face! If she thought about it too long she had the urge to cover it with her dirty hands, smudged with newsprint.  
  
"Angie, pull yourself together." She whispered, purposely pushing her hands into her skirt pockets. Even though Angie was a newsie, she felt more comfortable in a skirt. It covered more of her, made her feel safe.  
  
Forcing a smile, she began to run again. Running always made her feel better. The boy's used to make fun of her. "How could fatty run at all?" But she had swallowed her hurt, punched a few out, made a funny comment, and the dark cloud passed. As it always did.  
  
As a side point, Angie wasn't a bad runner.  
  
Feeling a bit more cheerful with the cool wind in her face and the sun on her hair, Angie reached the LH's worn door. Smiling, she pushed it open and walked into what she had been calling home for the past year.  
  
"Heya, Blink, where's Race?" She called out to the one-eyed blond in the corner. Blink was looking a bit forlorn, but now the urgency to relay her news to her best friend had come back. She would get back to Blink later, she decided, feeling a bit guilty.  
  
"I'se don't know....mebbe in the bunkrooms? Mebbe in the bathroom?" Turning angry, he punched the wall so hard plaster fell. "How the hell should I know?" Looking in surprise at the bloody scratches on his knuckles, he blinked, paused, and heaved the biggest sigh Angie had ever head.  
  
Darn it, Angie thought. Race is going to have to wait.  
  
Sitting down next to Blink, she have him a big squishy hug - if anything, she was a good person to hug because she was so "nice and soft" the boys used to say to her when he embraced her - and waited to hear Blink pour his golden heart out. 


	3. Craziness

*Thanx to everyone who reviewed! They mean so much. (* Disclaimer : I do not own any newsies. That is why I obsess about them.  
  
Blink sniffled pathetically. Angie rolled her bottle-green eyes behind his shoulder. It was almost 100% girl trouble. Newsies had to be tough, never showing their weaknesses. But Blink could never seem to keep the tears in when he lost another "great love".  
  
"She was da one, Angie, really....I thought she was it. How could she leave me like dat?" the sniffles became louder and Angie felt Blink start to shake against her shoulder. Great, she groaned inside her head. The guys would never let him live it down if they saw him like this. There was only one thing left to do.  
  
Pushing away from Blink to face him, Angie removed her hands from around his shoulder and smacked Blink across his red face, leaving a red mark in it's wake.  
  
Blink stared at Angie in total surprise, too stunned to speak. Then, he blinked twice and regained his senses. His eye narrowed and then winded again.  
  
"Thanks, Angie, I need dat." Blink said with a sheepish smile.  
  
"No problem." Angie returned the favor, showing off her slightly crooked teeth. But inside she sighed. Let's see, this was the what, fourth girl in the last three months? And each one was "the one". Blink always got the girl with his messy blond hair and blue eye, but always ended up driving them away with his over protectiveness.  
  
"Blink....maybe you should stay away from the ladies for awhile, hmmm? Give your heart a chance to recover." Angie said, standing up and looking around the shabby room. "I have to go find Race right now. Go play cards or something, get your mind off your troubles." She patted the desolate boy next to her one last time before turning away.  
  
Now, it was time to have a little fun. Her mothering tendencies satiated for a bit, she went looking for Race. As she thought about what she had to tell him, a wicked grin slid onto her face, lighting up her eyes. Rubbing her hands together, she ascended the steps to the bunkroom and called out.  
  
"Race! Hey, Racetrack Higgins! Are you in there?" Angie stuck her shaggy head into the room to make sure everyone was decent before going in. She had made this a practice soon after she came to the lodging house, after she walked innocently into the dorm one day and spied Jack and a few other newsies standing around, as naked as the days they were born. She wasn't nearly as embarrassed as the boys were.  
  
"Yeah, I'se here, Angie." She followed the voice to the corner of the bunkroom, where Race was sitting on a wooden box, peacefully smoking his ever-present cigar.  
  
Angie grinned when she saw her best friends cute Italian face. Race and her had clicked right away, and he was more like a brother to her than her own, 13 years her senior, had ever been. They did everything together, usually selling together as well. But today Race hadn't worked, claiming a stomachache.  
  
"You little liar! You are perfectly fine." Angie said to Race, sitting down next to him and removing the cigar from his mouth. Puffing for a few minutes, she continued. "Why didn't you sell today, Race? You seem perfectly well to me."  
  
Race didn't answer her, so Angie gave his cigar back. He could be such a baby sometimes, Angie thought. But I still love him, anyway.  
  
"So, what happened?" Angie pressed. "If you don't tell me, I wont tell you the extremely juicy little tidbit I heard today from.....Mister Ronald Block."  
  
"The Mista Ronald Block?" Race exclaimed. "The master of the horserace himself?"  
  
"The very one." Angie replied with a smirk. "So, are you going to tell me what happened? Or will I just have to assume that the Delancy's scared you off for good?"  
  
"Ah, stop it." Race laughed. "It ain't that big of a deal. Ya see, yestaday, when we went to eat lunch and you went to talk ta Spot? Well, this little bugga and me gots inta this augument, and he says ta me..." Race chuckled, trailing off. "This little bugga, he says ta dat he bet's I'se cant go a day widout sellin or gambling."  
  
"So, you took the bet, right?"  
  
"You bets I did. And when I find that little squirt tomorrow, he's gonna pay me a dollah."  
  
"A dollar? Race, you can't take a dollar from a newsie, especially a young one. That's an entire month's savings!"  
  
"Yeah, well, wait till ya heah my side. It I'se be the one ta lose, I'se woudda had to pay a dolloah and two bits."  
  
"I'll never understand you." Angie said, giving up. "A gamblers logic is the hardest to debate." She sighed and leaned against her best friend, taking in the comforting smell of him, the leather and horse manure from his day at the track, the spicy tobacco from his cigar and the signature sent that was Race's own. Race, in turn, ruffled Angie's hair and asked, "So, what's been happenin wit you? How was selling taday without me?"  
  
"The best! In fact, I think you should be sick tomorrow too." Angie joked. But Race could see her eyes getting darker, the way they always did when she was hurt.  
  
"Da pity sells?" He said softly, as the other newsies trickled in from a long day of selling. Angie hated when other people felt bad for her, newsies included. Only Race was allowed to know how she really felt. So he whispered, so only Angie could hear his word of comfort.  
  
"Oh, Angie...." He murmured, pulling the tense girl next to him closer. "Ya know they'se don't do it on piopose. Don't worry about it. They don't know ya. They'se just strangas. Ignore them and take deah money."  
  
Angie looked up into his twinkling black eyes. How did Race always know what to say to make her feel better? She was so lucky to have a friend like him.  
  
"I know, Race, I know. But it's all I can do to keep from soaking them when they look at me and say, look at that poor girl, so plain, with that horrendous scar across her face." Angie imitated her mother's annoying Southern drawl to perfection.  
  
Race laughed and looked up from Angie's face as Jack came over to the pair. Nudging Angie to pay attention, both stood up to face their handsome, blond haired leader as he swaggered over.  
  
"Well, Jack, looks like you're in a good mood today." Angie said, giving Jack a small kiss on the cheek in welcome.  
  
"Yeah, I'se in the best mood, let me tell ya!" Jack was so enthusiastic, that when he talked one of his wide-flung arms hit Race in the face and sent him tumbling onto a bed. Race groaned, massaging his nose.  
  
"Heya, Jack, watch were ya send you'se arms!" Race said with disgust. Punching Jack lightly in the stomach in retaliation, he wandered off to join Mush and some others in a recently started game of poker.  
  
Jack looked around quickly and pulled Angie into a corner. This was not good, she thought. Jack better not be having another one of his harebrained ideas. Last time Jack had dragged Angie into one of his "masta plans" she was almost caught by the bulls and put into the House of Refuge.  
  
"What is it this time, Jacky-boy?" Angie asked, using Spot's name for him. Whenever she did that, it was almost like a secret signal for Jack to watch out and make sure whatever the hell he was saying was good and smart.  
  
Jack and Angie had become good friends after Angie joined the newsies gang. Though not as close to Angie as Race, Jack still came to Angie whenever he needed a person to talk to that understood the real him, the Jack the rest of world never saw. Not that the real Jack was any less charismatic as the show one, but inside, Jack was just as venerable as anyone else.  
  
Angie waited for Jack to speak. After one last look to make sure no one was within ear shot, he began to speak so fast and soft it was difficult for Angie to hear him.  
  
"Listen, Angie..I'se just hooked up with that new giol, ya know the one that always hangs around the LH? Well, anyways, she wanted ta know it I had a sista, because her brodda wants to come ta tha party wit us tommora night at Spot's and he don't have a giol to go wit. So I'se said dat I got a sista, and she would be more den happy ta go."  
  
Jack looked down at his scuffed shoes and, blushing, into Angie's face. "Say you'se gonna go, Angie. Jest pretend tonight. I really think dat she's gonna stay round." Swallowing his pride, he even added a little, "Please?"  
  
Angie groaned in frustration. What was it with the boy's love lives tonight?  
  
Jack was famous for picking the girls that didn't want him. They were pretty and hung around just long enough to be noticed on the arm of Jack Kelly, the devilishly handsome leader of the Manhattan Newsies. Then they dumped him, breaking his heart, and moved onto the next conquest. Which was usually Spot. They made the rounds.  
  
The funny thing was, there were tons of girls that really liked Jack. But Jack, being the charming, brilliant and sometimes clueless guy that he was, had some skewed radar that made him just pass over the nice girls and go for the bitches.  
  
Angie shook her head at the tall boy in front of her. "No way, Jack. I am not pretending to be some crazy sister of yours. You really want the girl? Tell her the truth. She'll appreciate it."  
  
Angie tried to push past him, but Jack grabbed her arms and begged. "Please, Angie? Please please please? I'll do anything." He gripped her arms harder and leaned in his face close to her. "Ya gotta do dis foah me, Angie. Me boys are gonna heah me beggin an get tha wrong ideas. I'll ask you one last time...please?"  
  
Angie knew how hard it was for Jack to bend over like this. Wrenching her arms away from his iron grip, she scratched her scar, a habit of hers when she was thinking, and contemplated the adorable puppy eyes Jack was giving her.  
  
Alright, what harm would it do? Angie decided to give it a go.  
  
"Alright, big guy, I'll do it, just for you. But you owe me one.....a big one." Angie finally said. She mentally banged her head against the wall as soon as she said it. Why did she always give in to those eyes? She could swear they were magic or something.  
  
Jack's eyes lit up. "Thanks, Angie! Ya wont regret dis!" He gave her a huge bear hug, enfolding her generous body before dashing off to meet his new "giol".  
  
"By da way, we'se gonna be leavin at seven tommoa night!" Jack called over his shoulder.  
  
Angie walked over to bed, he step slow. She was not looking forward to meeting another strange boy the next night. These little brothers were always either pimple pitted and mean, only out for a free grope. Or else they were hot and knew it, never giving Angie a second glance. Angie didn't know what was worse.  
  
Sighing, she sat tiredly on the bed. It had been such a long day, and all she wanted to do was sleep. She had perfected the art of sleeping through a tornado, an essential virtue to have when living with boys who stayed up till three in the morning. Stretching out on top of the covers, she put her hands behind her head on the rock hard-pillow and let her mind drift.  
  
The selling, the tip...shoot, she still didn't finish telling Race.... Blink....Jack....bother....  
  
Before she realized what had happened, Angie was sound asleep. 


	4. Dreams

The nightmares came again that night for Angie.  
  
The blood, the hurt....ice blue eyes mixing with red ones....a beautiful face morphing together with a sadist.....the red lines.....the pain.....the betray, the hurt....the blood....oh god, the blood!  
  
In her dream, she was running....everything was red, dark red.......black and swirling....and all she felt was the pain......  
  
Angie didn't even realize the screams in the distance were hers until she felt herself being shaken awake. Blinking the sleep and last images of horror from her eyes, she saw Race holding her in his arms and Jack looking down at her with concern.  
  
"Was I screaming again, Race?" She asked groggily. "I'm sorry...I hope I didn't wake anyone up....." she mumbled. Hiding her face in Race's soft nightshirt, she felt another hand on her shoulder.  
  
"God, Anige...." She heard Jack say shakily. "Don't eva do dat again....geez, it sounded like you'se was dyin or something." Angie looked into his face. His eyes were suspiciously shiny.  
  
"Are you crying, Cowboy?" She said, trying to lighten the mood. She hated pity.  
  
Race, sensing what she was trying to do, gave her one last hug before loosening his hold on her.  
  
"Yeah, Angie, ya wanna give me a heart attack or somethin'?" Race whispered. "we'se all tryin ta sleep. So keep it down, ok?" Leaning next to her ear, he wisphered, "Are ya really ok?"  
  
Angie nodded, wiping the sweat and tears off her face. He short hair was matted to her forehead, and she was sure she looked like a mess.  
  
"It's ok, guys....go back to sleep. I'll be fine." When both boys made no move to leave, she said fiercely, "Go! Now!"  
  
Race left, because he understood. But Jack stayed, sitting down on the bed next to Angie. What was he, a complete idiot? Angie thought. Can't he see I'm about to kill him?  
  
"Angie....are ya really alright?" Jack pressed. "If ya want, ya can come sleep in my bed." He said, half serious. Angie whacked him with relief. At least he didn't try to make me feel better. Jack was really bad at that.  
  
"Nah, I'm ok. Besides, even if I wasn't I don't think I could bear to smell you all night." She smiled in the dark, the feeble light from the window washing over her scar and smooth round shoulders, creating an interesting combination of beauty and the grotesque.  
  
"Well, if you'se sure..."  
  
"I'm sure. Not get!" Angie pushed Jack off her bed.  
  
Jack looked her with a strange expression Angie didn't like. She waved her hand at him as if to make him disappear.  
  
"You have ten seconds, Cowboy. Ten...."  
  
"Ok, ok, geez. I'm getting." Leaning down, Jack kissed Angie on the cheek quickly, much as she had done to him earlier that night. She looked at him with surprise. That kiss had felt different from a usual friendly kiss....not romantic, but something else. Angie wasn't sure she liked it. But before she could ask him anything, Jack was back in his bunk.  
  
Angie shrugged and laid back once more, this time shucking her shirt, leaving her chemise on, and pulling the covers up to her chin.  
  
Angie didn't have the nightmares often. After she had run away from her miserable home, she had know what true happiness was like once she had found the newsies, and Race.  
  
But these images, horrible recollections of that one terrible night, kept coming back to her. Every so often she would wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, tears burning her face. But it had never been as bad as this before. Must have been because of all the stress of the day, she theorized.  
  
Rolling over on her stomach, Angie snuggled her face into he pillow and tried to go to sleep, to forget the horror of the year before. But the memories were flooding her mind now. She remembered....  
  
When Cat had betrayed her....  
  
When her mother had tricked her.....  
  
When her father had abandoned her.....  
  
When the one boy she ever loved gave her the scar.  
  
NO! Angie screamed mentally. You aren't ready yet. Don't think about it. You still have to heal. The wounds are still very raw. Touching her scar protectively, Angie fell asleep once more in the dark and silent bunkroom filled with snoring boys.  
  
And thankfully, her slumber was dreamless. 


	5. Feelings

Thanks everyone, once again, who reviewed. The reason my updates have been so prompt is because I have been bitten by this insane writing bug ever since I realized that yes, I could register with this awesome website called FFN, and my work could be out there for other people to read! Yay! But unfortunately, I do have another life that does not revolve around newsies....I will try my hardest to write as often as possible!  
  
Bright sunshine woke Angie up the next morning; so early that even Kloppman wasn't up yet. She stretched luxuriantly, the problems of the night before seeming so small in the light of day. Angie grinned to herself, her normal cheerful disposition coming back in full force. Today would be a wonderful day, she just knew it.  
  
Then she remembered. Tonight she had to go to that party as Spot's! Damn it, Angie thought. I am not going to let that ruin my day. I will go and pretend and do it for Jack, and it is always nice having Jack owe you a favor.  
  
Sitting up in bed, Angie ran a hand through her hair, and then cringed when she felt it greasiness. Time enough for a bath before the boys get up, she decided.  
  
Angie hopped off the bed, grabbing her shirt and her bath stuff she kept under her bed. Singing softly to herself, she tap-danced over to the bathroom off the bunkroom and locked the door securely behind her.  
  
"It's a fine life, carryin the banner through it all...a mighty fine life....."  
  
It was a song Angie had often heard the boys sing in the morning. It had a very catchy tune, she had to admit, drawing the bathwater and dumping in some extra soap, as an excuse for the bath salts she had seen in some fancy shops. She was feeling generous today.  
  
Angie slipped out of her clothes and lowered herself into the lukewarm water. Since it was still very early in the fall, another Indian summer day had warmed the water until it was just cool enough to feel refreshing. Angie sighed with pleasure. Wish I could do this every day. But with twenty young boys running around, even I would be enough for a hot peek, she thought with a chuckle.  
  
Humming, she lathered her pleasantly plump body white and scrubbed her short hair. Angie had had long hair before she ran away, but chopped it off when she realized how big of a pain it was without someone to help her take care of it. But her hair was still nice, cut short to frame her face and bouncy enough to hide her scar most of the time.  
  
Rinsing off, Angie sat in the yellowed porcelain tub for a few minutes before getting out. Running her fingers through the water, she thought about the tip she had still not revealed to Race. Laughing to herself, she realized she now had two guys in the palm of her hand. Race would do anything to get that tip out of her before he went to the track that day.  
  
Suddenly, she heard slow footsteps on the stairs. That must be Kloppman....he's a little early today, Angie realized.  
  
She jumped out of the tub, and by the time Angie had finished drying off and dressing the boys were out in full force, banging on the door to the bathroom with impatience. When Angie finally walked out of the bathroom, she was met with an equal amount of grumbling and catcalls.  
  
"Oh, shut your traps." Angie yelled out good-naturedly to both groups. "Can't a girl ever have a little time to herself?"  
  
She sashayed past the lines of boys and into the bunkroom once more, hoping to find Race before they had to leave to get their papers. Angie spied him still sitting on his bunk, hunched over with his head in his hands.  
  
Angie ran over and punched Race lightly in the back. "C'mon, big guy, don't you want to hear the tip I promised you yesterday?" She waited for a response.  
  
Nothing. She was met with silence.  
  
"Race?...hello? Race?'' The boy still didn't answer. Worried, Angie walked around the bed to see what was wrong. Why the hell wasn't Race answering her? He wasn't even moving...  
  
Angie gently picked up Race's head to see his face. His eyes were closed....and soft snores were coming from his mouth! The adrenaline that had filled Angie when she started to worry drained out of her. Smacking Race across the face, he woke up with a start.  
  
"Wha...Hey! Watcha think ya doin?" Snapping to it, Race realized what had happened when he saw Angie's laughing face. Chuckling sheepishly, Race asked, "I'se fell asleep again, didn't I?"  
  
"Yeah, you did, you big loser." Angie said, still laughing with relief. "Now get a move on! We'se got papes ta sell!" She said, imitating his accent to the T. Angie was also quite good at mimicking people.  
  
"Alright, aright, I'se coming. Jest let me finish getting dressed." Race replied with a yawn that split his face in two.  
  
"Good, I'll wait for you by the wagons." Angie said before scurrying off. She ran down the stairs and out of the LH, hopping over broken cans and one little sleeping newsie that apparently hadn't made it inside the LH before collapsing from exhaustion. Poor little tyke, Angie thought. The younger they are, the harder they have it.  
  
Angie skipped along to the distribution office, not caring that the well- to-do gentlepeople in the street were staring at the strange girl, who must have been at least 16, hopping along with her short hair flying in the wind. It was good to be alive today!  
  
Swirling into a ballet twirl - one of the many lessons her mother had thrust upon her - Angie couldn't see where she was going and crashed right into a boy who was coming around the corner. Both fell to the ground in a heap.  
  
"Oof, Angie, get off of me!" The boy said. "I've already been smothered by enough women today."  
  
"Well, David, you should have been watching where you were going." Angie retorted in a huff.  
  
"Well, I wasn't the one who was twirling around like a maniac!" David Jacobs replied, equally huffy. Straightening his vest, he and Angie glared at each other before bursting into maniacal laughter.  
  
It was a game she and David always played. Angie would do or say something, David would pretend to be mad, Angie would yell at him, and they would keep this up until one of them burst out laughing. Whoever laughed last was considered the unofficial winner.  
  
"So who was it this time, Angie?" David said, still laughing.  
  
"I think it was a tie..you're getting better at this every time." Angie said with a smile.  
  
David was the one who had shown Angie the LH that long ago night. Angie was acquainted with Sarah, and when Angie had run off she had nowhere to go. She ended up at the Jacob's apartment that evening.  
  
I will be forever indebted to them, Angie thought as she looked at David's smiling freckled face, now turned a bit away from her to yell at Les, who was petting a stray dog. They showed me the first real kindness in my entire life, even though they didn't know me and I came to them hurt and almost out of my head. God bless the people out there that are good....  
  
David turned back to Angie after prying his little brother's hands off the mangy canine. Les saw Angie standing there, with a huge smile on her face, and just could not resist the urge to give her a hug. Running at top speed, he jumped into Angie's arms.  
  
"Hey, watch it!" Angie said with a laugh. "I was already knocked down by one Jacobs today!" Hugging Les back and putting him down, she looked up at David again.  
  
"Why are you out so early, David?'' Angie asked curiously. "I was the first one out today. Even Jack's not out yet."  
  
"Well, I head from a little boidy that there was going to be a bash at Spot's tonight." David replied, falling a bit into the accent he still hadn't acquired after over a year of hanging out with the newsies. "So I came out a bit early to see if...hmm..humm..." David trailed of, blushing furiously.  
  
"You came out to see if Mary was out yet, didn't you?" Angie smiled. David had the biggest crush on one of the factory girl workers, a sweet girl named Mary Handler. David denied it and denied it, but everyone knew he was sweet on her, including Mary herself. Then again, she liked him too. But David had never gotten up the courage to speak more than a few, awkward words to her.  
  
"David, you are such a moron." Angie told David, who was fidgeting almost like Les next to him. "She liked you just as well, and you should defiantly as her to accompany you tonight. So go out there and ask her..I think she will be coming down this block any minute." Angie gave her friend a small push as she heard the rest of newsies come singing down the street. "Quick, before anyone else gets her."  
  
David looked down the block at the other newsies coming closer and grew white. "I cant, Angie..I'm not ready....what if she refuses me?" He looked around widely to find a way out.  
  
"DAVID! What do I have to say already?" Angie said in exasperation, scratching her scar and tugging at her long skirt witch had become twisted when Les jumped her. "Just go! You can do it! Sheesh, you would think you were asking the Queen of England or something. Take a chance!"  
  
David still didn't move, and Angie could see a slight figure of girl that she knew was Mary coming down the block, right on time as usual. Suddenly, a light went on in her head.  
  
"David..." Angie said slyly. David looked at her warily, recognizing that tone. "Darling, I didn't want to mention this, but...."  
  
"But what?" David demanded.  
  
"Well..." Angie said, looking coy. "There is a rumor going around that Dutchy was going to take Mary tonight...." Angie was completely making this up, but all's fair in love and war, right?  
  
"WHAT?" David exploded, gripping Les so tight that Les yelped. "Are you sure? He better not try anything! I better get going right now...if I see her, I'm going ask her. Damn that Dutchy...."  
  
"Your in luck." Angie pointed. "She's right over there."  
  
"Thanks a million, Angie. You're the best." David said with a nervous smile. "Wish me luck!" He walked away with les tagging along behind him.  
  
Angie watched his curly head bob away, and meet up with the brown head that was Mary's. She smiled happily as she observed the body language between the two. Looked like things were going well.  
  
At this point, the rest of the newsies had long reached the distribution office and were buying their papes. Angie walked over to them, looking for Race.  
  
"Heya, Angie."  
  
"Hi, babe."  
  
"Hey! Angie, my lady. How goes it?"  
  
Angie walked through the crowd of boys, waving to all the newsies who had greeted her. At the moment, she was the only girl newsie.  
  
Suddenly, the crowd parted, Spot walking down the middle of this "dead sea." Jack, Race, Blink and Crutchy were right behind him, deep in conversation. Angie stood on the other side of the procession, and watched with interest as the little group neared the spot where she was standing.  
  
Spot looked around at the group, nodding to a few newsies here and there and telling Jack something every so often. He was looking a little depressed today, Angie noticed.  
  
The boys, after this moment of distraction, were about to go back to buying their papes. Then Spot saw Angie. Swaggering over, the leader of the Brooklyn newsies smiled a nasty grin. Uh oh, Angie thought....this isn't going to be pretty....  
  
Spot smirked and opened his mouth to greet her.  
  
"How ya doin, Scarface?" 


	6. Strangness

Thanks a billion to everyone who reviewed! Keep on doing so - its what keeps me writing! (hint, hint.)  
  
Disclaimer (how often do I have to do this anyway?) I don't own any newsies. Thank you very much. So please do not sue me....why would you want to, anyway?  
  
Everybody froze.  
  
Angie tensed up, drawing herself up to her full height of 5'4''. She was now a comfortable two inches taller than the Brooklyn leader, who was still in front of her, smirking.  
  
She walked forward stiffly, and with a small smirk of her own, spit on her palm, held it out, replied to Spot's question.  
  
"Heya, pencil-dick. How's it hanging?"  
  
Spot did a double take when he heard that. As much as he and Angie had a love-hate relationship, even this was a bit much. But after a moment of refection, the short boy with the amazing eyes smiled, spit on his palm in turn and shook Angie's hand.  
  
The crown relaxed as the supposed conflict ended peacefully. Spot and Angie were still grasping each other's hands, as if they were having a test of strength. Both sets of knuckles were white, and they were staring each other down, green eyes into gray ones. Race looked on a bit worriedly, but figured the two could handle it on their own.  
  
"So's, ya comin ta that party tangiht, Angie?" Spot asked, finally letting go of the girl's hand.  
  
"Sure am, Spot." Angie replied with a wink. As much as she wanted to kill Spot sometimes, he was just too cute to do anything about it.  
  
The "most feared newsies in all of New York" and the Manhattan girl were not on the best of terms. Their relationship was forged out of necessity, when Angie had first become a newsie and one of Spot's boys was attacked by a Bronx newsie late at night. She was the only one out at the time, taking a midnight stroll - stupidly - and saw the entire thing. Angie had run to get Spot, whom she had never met before. In effect, she was the one who saved the little boy, whose name was Slick. While Spot had been trying to kill the Bronx boy without hurting Slick further, Angie had neatly and efficiently kicked the assailant in the balls and ended the matter right there. Spot had a lot of respect for Angie, but had never quite forgiven her for not letting him take care of it. Whenever they were together, he couldn't resist challenging her. Like today.  
  
When Spot turned back to Jack, Race came over to his best friend and took her hand.  
  
"C'mon, Anige, we'se got ta get our papes befoa they'se gone." Spit shaking with Spot quickly, the two left the leaders of Manhattan and Brooklyn in deep conversation.  
  
"What's all that about, Race?'' Angie asked with interest. She pushed her hair out of her eyes as Race handed her half the two hundred papers they had bought.  
  
"I'se don't know, Angie." Race replied, equally puzzled. He scratched his forehead, deep in thought, leaving a smudge of black newsprint on his face. "They'se been like dis eva since Spot came early dis mornin'. Talkin bout stuff, discussin it like it was all serious."  
  
Shrugging, the small Italian pulled Angie along to start the selling day. Angie looked behind her, still wondering, but eventually surrendered to Race's urgent pulling. Both Spot and Jack were giving her strange looks...clearing her throat to start yelling the days "headline" - today wasn't a good day - she pushed the thought out of her mind.  
  
She would have to find out later when she saw Jack. Which reminded her of the party tonight...the boy she was meeting....the clothes she had to clean......but as the first yell escaped Angie's throat, all these thoughts left her completely as she focused, instead, on the shiny copper pennies she was gradually collecting.  
  
Later that afternoon, Race and Angie stumbled into the bunkhouse in hysterics.  
  
"Dijya see that scabba's face?" Race shrieked, falling down on the floor in a huge fit of laugher.  
  
"He looked like someone was going to kill him!" Angie shrieked even louder, causing all of the newsies in the room to look up in alarm as she fell on top of Race.  
  
"Ah, woulda shut up?" Mush said irritably. The big, normally softhearted boy was in a terrible mood after being informed by his escort of that evening that she, due to the fact that Mush was a terrible kisser, was unable to go with him to Brooklyn that night.  
  
"Yeah." Blink mumbled through the shaving cream he had slathered all over this throat. "Some peoples are tryin ta shave hea. Want me ta slit me throat?"  
  
"But Mush...." Race said, tears of laughter streaming down his cheeks. "You never saw Oscar Delancy look so funny....."  
  
As Race continued with the story, Angie giggled off the rest of her amusement and checked out the bunkroom. The bathroom was crowded with shaving boys, and the bunkroom was in massive disarray, with clothes flying all over and guys trying mightily to knot their ties.  
  
With a groan, Angie heaved herself up off the floor and made her way through the chaos to her bed, to start getting ready for tonight. She was not looking forward to this. Nope. Not one little bit. Angie rubbed her scar, brining on a fresh wave of self-conciseness.  
  
As Angie picked her way through the beds, she stopped for a moment by Jack's, and blinked her eyes, staring at the spectacle in front of her.  
  
Jack's arms were halfway through his shirt, which he had forgotten to unbutton before slipping it over his head. The shirt looked a bit small for him, as he couldn't get it over his torso. Only a small tuft of Jack's blond hair was visible through the neck hole.  
  
"Um, Jack?" Angie said, trying mightily not to fall into hysterics again. She tapped on the shirtfront with a small pudgy hand. "Need some help?"  
  
"Nah, I'se thinks I'm alright..wait a minute, Angie, is that you?" Jack's deep voice was muffled through the heavy cotton. "On secon' thought, help me...I'se need ta tell ya somethin'."  
  
"How did you get this far in the first place?" Angie said with a chuckle, as she unbuttoned his shirt.  
  
"Well...." Jack said as his pink face was freed from its cloth prison. "I'se forgot that dese fancy dress shiots need ta be unbottned befoa puttin' em on. Plus, I'se thinks it's a little small." Jack put his arms all the way through the shirt as he was talking and did up the buttons. The shirt fit him like a second skin.  
  
Too bad he's like my brother, Angie thought. He's got an upper body to die for. Brushing the thoughts from her mind, she looked into the hazel eyes that were staring, troubled, back at her.  
  
"So, what did you need to tell me? Hurry up, I need to get ready, 'Big Brother'." Angie said, rolling her eyes.  
  
"Well....." Jack fidgeted, playing with his fingers. "Ummmm...." He shifted his weight, hopping from one foot to the next.  
  
Angie looked at her watch while Jack was hemming and hawing. It was almost five o' clock, and they needed to meet up at six!  
  
"Listen, Jack, your gonna have to tell me later." Angie said, rushing to her bunk. "I must get ready now, or else your 'little sister' is going to look even worse than she usually does!" As she ran, she started to untie her brown skirt and unlace the throat of her white shirt.  
  
Angie grabbed her makeup, good clothes, corset, shoes and stockings and ran towards the bathroom, thinking that time was going to have to go awfully slow for her to end up being remotely presentable.  
  
Locking herself in one of the stalls to change, Angie didn't look back, not once. So she didn't see that she left Jack standing there, still fidgeting, and still staring after her in his too tight shirt.  
  
Still staring after her with worried, troubled eyes. 


	7. Sorrows

Disclaimer: I Don't own any Newsies or anything remotely related to newsies except for the DVD and soundtrack and.....ahem. Anyway, yeah, that's about it.  
  
At promptly five to six, Angie was ready to hit the road.  
  
She had spent over an hour in the bathroom primping, fending off obnoxious boys and their greasy hair. And I, Angie thought, looking at herself in the mirror, look pretty decent, if I do say so myself.  
  
She was wearing a long, dark green skirt that looked amazing with her eyes, topped by a lacy cream blouse that she had saved from her home. These were her best clothes, and she only wore them on the most special of occasions. Or when she was meeting a boy. Either or would work.  
  
Angie had brushed her short hair over and over until it gleamed gold on the fading sunlight. Rouge high on her cheekbones drew attention away from her scar, and a deep wine on her lips hid her overbite some. He nose, she could do nothing about, except hope that whoever this guy was liked honkers as big as the state of Texas.  
  
Glancing one last time at her reflection, Angie gave herself a wicked wink and tucked her hair behind her ears. Turning, she was met with Race's face an inch from hers.  
  
"Race! What are you doing?" Angie yelled. "You scared me half to death!"  
  
"Sorry, Angie." Race apologized. "But I'se been sent up from Jack...he needs ya downstairs...somethin' bout his little sista? Would ya know anythin' bout that?" Race searched Angie innocent face.  
  
"I haven't the faintest idea what you are talking about." Angie said loftily. "Now if you will excuse me, I have a boy to meet." Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she flounced out of the room, hiding a giggle at Race's astonished face behind her hand.  
  
Angie paused on top of the stairs to scope out the situation. Yes, there was Jack on the arm of some floozy...but she didn't see an unfamiliar male face anywhere. Drumming her fingers on the banister, she searched the room once more. Still nothing. Shrugging her shoulders, she descended the stairs, still looking for her "date."  
  
Angie walked up to Jack and tapped him on the shoulder.  
  
"Hey, big brother, I'm ready to go." She said with a sardonic smile.  
  
Jack unlocked his lips from the blonde's neck and turned to face her. A grin spread over his face.  
  
"Well, ain't we lookin' pretty tonight." Jack remarked. "All ready ta go, little sista?"  
  
"Sure am, Cowboy." Angie replied. Turning to the nameless blonde on Jack's arm, she asked her, "Where's your little brother?"  
  
The blonde waived her arm in the air. "Somewheah. I'se don't know...." She went back to kissing Jack's jaw.  
  
"Geez, would you two get a room?" Angie asked in disgust. Embarrassed, Jack pointed to the corner of the room where a tall figure stood.  
  
"That's him." Jack said. "He says his name's Robert. Go intraduce youself." With that gracious statement, Jack returned to the business at hand.  
  
With a sigh, Angie yanked the back of Jack's hair before walking over to the boy Jack had pointed out. Looks like its up to me.....again, Angie thought angrily. This is the last time I do Jack a favor.  
  
She made her way through the crowded room, pushing through the many newsie couples. On her way, Angie saw David with his arm around Mary. Smiling to herself, she caught David's eye and winked. David gave her a thumbs up and turned back to his date before she noticed anything.  
  
As Angie drew ever closer to her mystery man, she prayed that he wasn't a pervert or a jerk. So many guys had been like that before....and when Race found out about it, Angie reflected, it wasn't fun.  
  
The boy standing in the corner of the room was very tall, very thin, with a shock of black hair. That was all Angie could see from the back. He was also wearing a worn brown jacket and black pants.  
  
Tapping him on the should, Angie said, "Hey. I'm Angie. Are you the guy I'm supposed to be meeting?"  
  
The boy started and whirled around. He had warm brown eyes and an interesting face - a crooked nose, bushy eyebrows and full lips. Altogether, it was a nice, almost handsome face.  
  
Angie sighed with relief. He looked like a nice enough guy. He had eyes that looked just like Jack's...maybe the evening would be bearable after all....she smiled at the boy and stuck out her hand to shake.  
  
"Hi. I'm Jack's little sister. And you are....?"  
  
The boy stared at Angie thoughtfully before taking the outstretched hand and lifting it to his lips. Planting a soft kiss on Angie's hand, the boy looked up at her astonished face and smiled a brilliant smile.  
  
"The name's Adams..Jon Adams." He said. "I must say, Jack never mentioned his little sister was so fetching."  
  
Angie started at Jon in complete amazement. What was he talking about? She blushed at the compliment.  
  
"Well, your sister..I didn't quite catch her name...er, she didn't mention either that he brother was a most accomplished rouge." Angie stuttered, hoping desperately that she wasn't making an utter fool of her self in front of this boy who was becoming cute by the minute.  
  
"Oh, Amanda? She doesn't know the half of it." Jon replied with a wink. "So you think we should be going now? We wouldn't want Brooklyn to miss the presence of such a beautiful lady." Slipping Angie's are through the crook oh his, Jon led a through ally confused, pleased, blushing and wary Angie out the door of the LH and into the cool night, walking with the crowd that was on the way to Brooklyn.  
  
As the two walked along, Jon peppered Angie with questions.  
  
"So, where are you from?" Jon asked first. "I know girl like to talk about themselves..so talk away." He patted Angie's hand.  
  
Angie was shocked. How could a guy like this exist? She knew that she wasn't beautiful, but this young man was going out of his way to make her feel that way. He was nice, funny, handsome....it was almost too good to be true. He also seemed to like her. Something must be wrong here, Angie thought critically. But the next time Jon smiled at her, all her doubts fled her head like they had never been there.  
  
"Well, I'm from New York. I used to live in the Upper East Side." Angie replied to Jon's question.  
  
"When did you leave?" The brown eye boy pressed.  
  
"Well....." Angie stalled. "I don't really like to talk about my other life much." She looked up into Jon's face. Concern was written all over it.  
  
"You don't have to talk about if you don't want to, Angie Ma - Kelly." Jon spluttered.  
  
"Wait a minute..." Angie said, stopping in the middle of the street. "Did you know all along that I wasn't really Jack's little sister?"  
  
"Guilty as charged. "Jon said sheepishly, moving out of the way as people walked past them. "I had heard all about you from the newsies and I just had to meet you. So I asked my sister to get me a date with you through Jack." He looked down at her through long lashes. "I hope you're not mad at me."  
  
Angie was speechless for a long while. Why in the world would someone go through so much trouble to meet me? Why in the world would this guy want to meet me? What are people saying about me? What is going on here? All these through flew through Angie's head. Finally, she made up her mind.  
  
"It's ok." Angie said sweetly, deciding to trust this guy. He looked to nice and sophisticated, and he was so sweet and sensitive! What could be bad? She pulled Jon along once again. "If you wanted to meet me that much, how can I refuse another admirer?"  
  
Jon grinned. "That's great! I was no nervous that you would break my heart." He clutched said organ dramatically. Angie laughed at his antics.  
  
After about twenty minutes of walking in animated conversation, they arrived in Spot's territory. The couple made the rounds in the stuffy Brooklyn Lodging House; Jon greeting his friends that he "knew from the street" and Angie provoking Spot, greeting Sarah Jacobs who was there with Skittery, and teasing David.  
  
Jon and Angie walked to the docks after awhile. Sitting on the edge, both removed their shoes and dangled their feet in the water. They resided in compatible silence for a while. Jon was the first to break the silence.  
  
"You know, Angie, you are so different from the girls I've met before." He threw a stone in the river, hearing the soft splash. "They are usually so shallow, and you are just....not." Jon reached out a large, long fingered hand and grasped Angie's chin, turning her scarred face toward him. "Why is that, may I ask?"  
  
Angie was about to cry from the soft tenderness she heard in Jon's deep voice. The only one who knew her story was Racetrack, and no one else ever asked. No one else seemed to care. Certainly, the boys she went on occasional dates with didn't give a damn.  
  
He mind was in conflict. Could she tell him? Could she trust him? She had only met him a few hours ago. But Jon felt so familiar, so trustworthy. God know she had to talk to someone. Race wasn't always there, wasn't always enough. She needed a fresh ear to pour her troubles into......  
  
"Do you really want to hear it?" Angie asked softly, scratching her scar.  
  
"Yes." Jon replied, equally softly. There was a strange glitter in his yes. "Yes, I do."  
  
Angie looked out at the black water of the East River, flowing beneath their feet. Clearing her throat, She laid back on the hard wooden slats of the deck and began to speak, drowning herself in memories.....  
  
"I was born in the Bronx." Angie began. "I think, the day that I came into this world....that was the day the trouble began....."  
  
"My mother hated me. I'm not sure why. I think it was because I made her fat for those few months she was pregnant with me. For whatever reason, my mother made my life a living hell. I was never good enough for her - too fat, too ugly, too stupid, too proud."  
  
"My father was a businessman, never home. He traveled the world, cheating on my shrew of a mother at every stop. My brother was years older than me....I never knew him. But he was always the perfect child. Smart, handsome, he married into the famed Grant family. He made my parents happy, and that was all they needed. They didn't need me, their second, a girl....a mistake."  
  
"But I had a friend. Several friends. But my best friend was a girl named Catherine. Cat, I liked to call her. She came over to my family's small brownstone all the time, trying to escape the ridgedness of her family's wealthyness. We were best friends since we were six, and she was the only thing that kept me going in the hell hole I called me home."  
  
"When we both turned 15, we started to become interested in the boys at school, her older brothers friends. We dressed up all the time, slathering on the makeup and adding more frills that was smart to our dresses."  
  
"Cat.....she was beautiful. Black hair, deep blue eyes, clear skin. I was....not so beautiful. I didn't have the looks Cat did, but I do have some personality. I have a few admires, but not nearly as much as Cat had."  
  
"One day, Cat came running over to my house, all exited. She was seeing a boy named Brian Cleps, and she fancied herself in love. I fancied Brian was just after her money, but she wouldn't listen to me....anyway, it seemed that Brian had a friend who was coming to town the next week and would happily take me to the school social at the time. 'Happily', she said....if only I had known....."  
  
At this point, Angie stopped to swallow the tears that gathered in her throat. Jon's eyes were as sad as her own, and he pulled her into a hug as he whispered, "Please. Don't stop...it will fell better if you just get it all out......" Angie nodded against his shoulders and began again, letting the tears fall this time.  
  
"The next week, Brian introduced me to his cousin....his name was Kenneth, Ken for short. He was handsome and dashing, and stole my naïve heart the minute I saw him. He seemed to like me, and Cat was thrilled. 'Finally.' She said. 'You've caught yourself a real man. I knew you could do it!' She knew......"  
  
"The night of the social came. My mother had fought with me for hours that night. She wanted me to wear this, curl my hair, lose fifteen pounds at least. 'Angie, you must be the ugliest girl I have ever seen.' She said to me right before I was picked up by Ken. That was the last thing she ever said to me....the last time I ever saw her."  
  
"I still remember the dress I was wearing. It was green satin, very simple. I thought I looked as good I was going to get, and when Ken said I was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, all my hurt from my mother disappeared. He flattered me, and I believed him....."  
  
"The night went well at first. Cat and Brian danced, as well as Ken and I. I was happier than I had ever been in a long time. But then, the party started winding down and Ken pulled our group outside."  
  
"He pulled out of his pocket a knife, some paper and white powder. 'This is opium.' He said with a delighted laugh. 'Cost me a pretty penny, but its well worth it.' He offered some to everyone, but only the boys ended up smoking the drug, in paper funnels Ken cut from the paper with his knife."  
  
"After a while, both boys were high as the clouds. Cat was enjoying the extra attention Brian was giving her. She was giggling like crazy, tucked in a corner with her boyfriend. I was with Ken, who started rambling......"  
  
"Angie, he said.....oh god, he said my name over and over...'Angie, who are you? Why do you think you have a chance with me?' he said this with a cruel laugh. Cruel, evil......I was scared. He broke my heart, and I wanted to get away. I tried to run....I tried....but he just held tighter....."  
  
"I screamed for Cat, but she ignored me....even after Ken had already snapped open the knife...... I still remember her cold blue eyes....laughing in the face of my pain, as she went back to kissing Brian......"  
  
"Ken took out his knife and touched my cheek. His touch was horrible, cold......he was at the point of no return and there was no way to stop him. He took the knife.....drew it along my face....slowly....oh god, it was so slowly...I couldn't run......and then he dug it in, slowly, and sliced my face......"  
  
"I must have blacked out from the pain, because the next time I was coherent of anything everyone was gone. I was bleeding, the blood was in my eyes......all over....I was hysterical. I knew I couldn't go home, my mother would cast me out anyway......so I ran....ran.....I ended up at the Jacobs' apartment that night. The rest, you probably know......"  
  
Angie finished her tale, sobbing for real now at the fresh hurt that engulfed her. Jon stroked her hair comfortingly, holding her tight. He breathing was ragged, and his voice was hoarse as he comforted her.  
  
"It's alright, Angie, it's ok....you're here with me now....."  
  
With her head tucked into his chest, Angie sobbed out her pain from all the years, from all the pain. She had never cried like this. When she was finished, she felt lighter, clean......she kept her head on Jon's thin chest, gazing at the stars. Finally, she felt a bit freer from her internal demons.....  
  
Another person watching them would have been touched by the scene. But only they would have, also, been able to see the war raging in Jon's eyes, the confusion and guilt that clouded them as he looked at the girl leaning against him. 


	8. Dissapiontments

This is what happens on a snow day. I can't tear myself away from my comp and chapter after chapter pours out. Oh well, I guess its good for the readers - not good for my eyesight!  
  
Jack came upon the cuddled figures of Angie and Jon later that night. Angie had fallen asleep, her face clear of any lines and peaceful. Jack stood there looking at his friend. She looked so small and fragile there....  
  
Jack motioned for Jon to wake her up. It was late and Brooklyn, barely safe with Spot at the helm in the day, was murderous by night. Then Jack walked away, to stew in his own problems....  
  
"Angie......Angie." Jon said loudly. Angie stirred and smiled when she opened her eyes.  
  
"Hey." She said, her voice husky from sleep, her cheek with the scar on it a fiery red from sleeping.  
  
"Hey, yourself." Jon said back with a smile. "Come. It's time we were heading back....and I need to get to the Bronx, meself."  
  
Jon pulled a yawning Angie up on her feet. He slung an arm over her soft shoulder, and the two walked back in a peaceful silence.  
  
At the doorway to the LH, Jon stopped and faced Angie. He looked at her with an expressionless face for a long time, searching for something in her eyes. Finally, he reached out a hand to stroke Angie's cheek - the one sliced with the scar.  
  
Angie caught her breath. Her mind was screaming. It was too soon! She couldn't handle another broken heart. Please don't let him kiss me, she prayed, please....as much as Angie felt like she had known Jon forever, something stopped her from having any romantic feelings for him. Her heart stayed inside her chest, as if waiting for someone else.  
  
Thankfully, Jon just kissed Angie on the cheek in a purely platonic way. She hugged him back.  
  
"Thank you so much for tonight." She whispered. "It means a lot to me."  
  
"No problem." Jon mumbled into her hair. "I was glad to be of help. Maybe we'll see each other around sometime, hmm?" His words were happy but his eyes were not. Angie wondered why.  
  
"Sure. Although I don't go into the Bronx that often anymore...I'm sure you can understand." Angie pushed Jon down the street. "Now go. It's getting late and I don't want anything bad to happen to you."  
  
Jon gave Angie a mock salute and his charming grin before disappearing around the corner.  
  
Angie hummed to herself happily. This night wasn't bad, after all. Jon was all the things she liked in a guy. Granted, he was a bit strange, but mystery was good. Right?  
  
She walked into the dark LH and searched for the light switch. She gasped as she felt a hand grab her wrist.  
  
Angie automatically fell into fighting stance mode, the little bit of self- protection Spot had taught her one day. She kicked out her foot and felt it connect with the body next to her.  
  
"OOF! Christ, Angie, it's just me!"  
  
"Jack?" Angie asked incredulously. "What in heavens name are you doing in the dark, grabbing people like that? I thought you were a robber or something!" Angie finally found the light switch and flipped it one. A weak bulb illuminated a grubby Jack with a bottle in his hand. His face was all red, as if he had been trying not to cry.  
  
"Oh, Jack!" Angie exclaimed. She ran to him and grabbed the bottle out of his hand, pushing him into a chair. "What happened?"  
  
Jack looked back at her with bleary eyes. "She dumped me." His words were slightly slurred.  
  
"Who..oh, that girl you were with tonight? Jack, how long have you been seeing her? A month, maybe? Three weeks?"  
  
"Yeah...." Jack replied drunkenly. "But she was..hot....let...me tell ya...." Jack trailed off, beginning to nod off. Then a thought struck him, and his head shot up.  
  
"Angie!" Jack yelled, grabbing her arms. "I'se got ta tell ya somethin'! Lissen, I'se really sorry, but you'se seemed ta be getting' along well wit dat guy, Jon, and I don't think any harm is gonna come from it....."  
  
Angie looked into Jack's urgent face. "What are you talking about? Jon and I got along fine. What's all the fuss?"  
  
"It's impotant! Lissen, ya gotta hea me out. Yestaday, when I'se told ya Jon was Amanda's brodda? Well, He aint. I'se don't know who'se he is. Foist he says his name's Robert, den Amanda tells me his name's Jon. He came ta Amanda yestaday and offad her twenty dollahs if she would pretend like he was her brodda." Jack was frantic. "I'se swear, I'se didn't know till tanite. I don't know what dis means, but I'se sorry. I'se didn't know......I swear, I'se didn't know...."  
  
Angie stared at Jack in shock. Oh, god, it was happening again......all over again....the lies, the betrayal, the pain......whenever she offered her heart, bared her soul, it would just get hurt.....how could she go through this again?  
  
But she had to pull herself together. Living as a newsie for almost a year had taught her that. Worrying and pacing never got you anywhere. She had to think of what to do. Besides, nothing had happened. Really.  
  
"Jack, Jack, it's alright." Angie said soothingly. "It's ok. Nothing happened tonight. In fact, I had a wonderful time. So just sit back, and why don't you tell me about Amanda, instead, alright?" She smoothed Jack's hair back absentmidly and sat them both down in rickety chairs by the newsies "poker table."  
  
"It was awful." Jack wailed. "She'se was so pretty an sweet, and den she'se jest gone. She jest said she didn't wanna see me no more an left." He put his head in his hands.  
  
"Jack, you silly boy." Angie said, rubbing his back. "She was just another loser. Why don't you find a nice girl for a change?"  
  
At her words, Jack stiffened. Surprised, Angie dropped her hands and stared at the hunched-over boy in the flickering yellow light. The shadows were long and dark, falling over the two of them like a blanket.  
  
"Jack? What's wrong? What did I say?" Angie asked apprehensively.  
  
Jack mumbled something.  
  
"I cant hear you, Jack." Angie whispered.  
  
"Its jest that...I'se can neva find a giol like ya, Angie..... You'se perfect for me....I always compare ya ta all the giols I'se date...but...."  
  
Angie grinned bitterly. Now she got it.  
  
"I'm perfect for you, but I'm not pretty enough for you, is that it?" She knew it was, and Jack's silence just confirmed the fact.  
  
She got up, angry tears filling her eyes, he chair clanging to the floor. She started to walk away when she heard another chair scrape behind her.  
  
She knew Jack was following her. But Angie was so hurt that someone could think so little of her, just because of her looks (or lack of), that she didn't even want to look at his face.  
  
Angie had never thought of Jack romantically before. Sure, they were great friends, but Angie always assumed that the relationship was purely nonsexual.  
  
But it was true, she thought with an ironic smile. They would be perfect for each other, now that she considered it. Her mellowness and cheerfulness balanced out Jack's sometimes moody nature. They could talk for hours and sit together, not speaking, for just as long. It was, Angie reflected, like Race with a spark.  
  
But Jack's shallowness had gotten in the way.  
  
Were all boys like that? Would she ever find a guy that would like her for whom she was? Would her chubby body and scarred face always keep her from finding love?  
  
Angie could feel Jack's eyes boring into her back as she stumbled to the stairs. He was right behind her, but not touching her. She felt the heat of his body and hated herself for her sudden, obvious unrequited new feelings.  
  
He shoulders tensed up when she realized Jack was about to lay a strong hand on one of them.  
  
But the pounding of the door interrupted their confrontation.  
  
Momentarily forgetting their conflict, Jack and Angie looked at each other in confusion. Who was coming this late to the LH? Everyone with any sense in their heads would be off the streets by now.  
  
Jack reached the door first. He pulled it open to allow a small boy, white with fear, to come running into the room. Gasping for breath, he pointed to both of them and wheezed out, "Which one of you'se is Angie March?"  
  
Incredulous, Angie stepped forward. "That would be me."  
  
The little boy ran to her and pulled on her dress, his blond curls bobbing and blue eyes very wide. "Ya have ta come!" He exclaimed. "Jon, ya know Jon, from da Bronx, he's axin foa ya, he's on the ground, somebody soaked 'im bad, ya gotta come now!"  
  
'What?" Angie ran to keep up with the little boy as he raced out the door. "Take me to him!"  
  
"Wait!" Jack ran out after them. "I'se coming with ya!"  
  
Turing to glare at Jack who was running along beside her, Angie opened her mouth to protest, but thought the better of it.  
  
You never know who was out there, especially at this time of night.  
  
Besides, there was no time to waste as the threesome sped through the darkness.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ok, a little authors note here. PLEASE REVIEW!! I know I sound beyond needy, but the reviews are really what keep me writing. How do I know to continue with Angie and her adventures if I don't think anyone is enjoying them? Sniff, sniff. So review right now!! Thank you, thank you. Love you all! (  
  
Also - about the grammar and spelling mistakes...I really have no excuse, except for the fact that I just don't catch them if word doesn't highlight them in red. I am a terrible speller. I hope they don't damage your enjoyment of the story too much - I'll try to be more careful in the future!  
  
NOW REVIEW!!! 


	9. Pains

The young boy leading Jack and Angie was running faster than anyone Angie had ever seen before. He was terrified, that was obvious. His shoulders were shaking and he was choking back sobs. Angie would have stopped to comfort him, but her concern for Jon eclipsed all else.  
  
"Where is he?" Angie asked as they ran down a dark alley somewhere in Midtown.  
  
"In Canon's Alley, in da Bronx. We'se almost thea." The little boy replied, his little shoes tapping out an impatient rhythm on the cobblestone.  
  
They all picked up their pace once they entered the Bronx, speeding in silence down the dark and deserted streets. Closed shop windows stared out at them with empty eyes.  
  
Finally, the boy made a sharp turn into a black corner and motioned Jack and Angie to follow him.  
  
"He'se hea." The tyke whispered. "Jon? Angie's hea." He called out to the darkness.  
  
"How come you didn't get help?" Angie hissed angrily as she saw the limp figure of her friend lying over several crates. Jon was black and blue all over, his lips were fuller than normal, and his arm twisted across his chest at a weird angle.  
  
Angie gasped when she took stock of his injuries. She rushed over to Jon and knelt down beside him, stroking his forehead while hot tears fell from her eyes.  
  
"Go! Get help! Both of you" She screamed to her shocked companions.  
  
"B-but...." Jack tried to protest, his Adam's apple jumping erratically as the severity of the situation dawned on him.  
  
"NOW!" Angie yelled so loudly the alley rang and both boys jumped. Together, they nodded their heads and made identical about faces.  
  
Jack and the boy disappeared, the boy to alert the Bronx leaders and Jack most probably to find a doctor. Left alone with her date of a few hours ago, Angie sobbed over Jon and took his hand in her own.  
  
"Who...who did this to you?" Angie asked brokenly. Jon's brown eyes opened a crack as a small smile twisted his swollen lips.  
  
"I'm......sorry, Angie....I didn't mean for it to.....turn out this way...." Jon gritted his teeth against the pain speaking brought him. He lifted a filthy hand to gently wipe away Angie's tears.  
  
"Why?" Angie's tears were burning her cheeks, falling onto Jon's ripped shirt and leaving little dark spots next to the grime and blood. "Why did this happen?"  
  
"They soaked me....when I told her.....I couldn't do it....God, I told her that I was wrong......she set..... them on me....I should have...... seen it coming.....you have to leave now, Angie....." Jon pushed her shoulder weakly. "Go, now."  
  
"I'm not leaving you until help gets here." Angie's voice was stronger now, the adrenaline of a crises taking over.  
  
But for the first time, she noticed how very dark and deserted the alley was, and how very thick the silence.......  
  
Jon's eyes were wide open now, the molasses color fiery with pain. He struggled to sit up, but Angie pushed him back down again. Smiling faintly, a look of complete peacefulness masked his features.  
  
"Angie.....May God forgive me......I never knew what.....this all meant.....who it was ....about ....why .....I .....did ...it .....again......"  
  
His halting speech stopped, Jon's lips closing tightly as he grimaced when a spasm of pain caused his body to jerk.  
  
"Angie.....she wants....you.....back......" Jon managed to get out before his body went completely limp.  
  
"Who? Christ, Jon, what.....no, oh no....."  
  
She gripped Jon's hand harder as she saw his eyes shut. "Jon.....Jon, don't leave me! Stay awake!" Angie cried desperately. "Jon! JON!"  
  
Frantically, she shook him. Her knuckles were white from gripping his wrist, hoping desperately to find a pulse......  
  
But Jon lay still....stiller than any living person could have....  
  
Angie looked down at Jon's still figure, her heart ice cold and numb. Letting his hand fall lifelessly to his chest, she trailed a finger over his bloody lips and leaned down to kiss him, tenderly. Her tears fell over his bruised face, glittering in the light of the moon.  
  
'What were you trying to tell me, Jon? What did you have to hide?" She whispered into the silence. "Oh God, Jon....."  
  
Angie started to cry fresh tears, the sorrow of a young life lost piercing her heart. Whoever this boy was, whatever his real name, profession or intentions, didn't matter.  
  
Not now.  
  
No one deserved to have his life taken from him like that.  
  
Angie glanced around the alleyway as a sharp footstep echoed. Everything was blurry because of her tears. Wiping some away, she called out, her voice hoarse with grief.  
  
"Jack? Is that you? Oh Jack, I think he's go-"  
  
A strong hairy arm wound around her neck, cutting off her words. Angie struggled and fought, pinching and biting. She even managed the draw a bit of blood with a particularly hard bite, receiving a slap upside the head for her struggles.  
  
But the hand that held her pressed the pressure point on Angie's neck, and then the world went black.......  
  
Now is the time to review!!  
  
Thanks so much to the people who have already done so! You give me the will to live!!  
  
Well, to write anyway.  
  
SO REVIEW!!! 


	10. Betrayals

Thank you, thank you to all who reviewed!! If I would give shout outs it would be a whole 'nother chapter, but I read all your reviews and I LOVE THEM!!! SO KEEP SENDING THEM!! Thank you. On with the story!  
  
The first thing Angie was coherent of when she came to was the light. Bright and white, it was like a laser through her eyelids. Gasping, Angie sat straight up in whatever she was on and covered her eyeballs.  
  
The next sensation was softness. She was apparently sitting on something soft, and bouncy. It felt like a bed, and when Angie opened her eyes, she saw that she was right. She also got the biggest shock of her life......  
  
She was lying on a bed, all right. More specifically, her bed - the bed she used to sleep in every night for fifteen years.  
  
Angie was back home.  
  
She was back in her cream and blue room, with the worn flowered wallpaper and stained carpet where she had thrown a glass of juice when she was eight. The Monet print was there, hanging crookedly on the left wall, and her blue dresser was in the corner, covered in dust.  
  
Angie just stared in complete shock.  
  
This is not happening.  
  
NOT HAPPENING.  
  
How did she get here? Her family wasn't supposed to know where she was.....  
  
With a loud bang, the white oak door flew open, and the last person Angie ever wanted to see again barged in, a vision in a green sating dress, black curls piled on her head.  
  
"I see you are finally awake, my dear." Mrs. Ida March said with a sniff. "Took you long enough, I dare say. Thought I don't think that Danny did a good enough job finding you......you were supposed to be here three weeks ago."  
  
Ida walked to the faded white curtains and pulled them open, the dust mites flying through the air. Angie's green eyes followed her mother. She was still unable to take this all in.  
  
"Well?" he mother said impatiently. "Aren't you going to say anything?"  
  
Angie found her voice.  
  
"What is going on, Mother?" She shook her head in bewilderment. "How did I get here?" She tried to stand up, but her aching head kept her on the bed.  
  
"What a silly question." Ida said with an airy laugh. "I hired someone to bring you back, of course."  
  
"But why?" Angie said, angry now. "I didn't want to come back and you knew it! You made my life a living hell for fifteen years. Why now, why now did you try to find me?" Angie was shouting now. What was her mother doing?  
  
"Such language from a young lady!" Her mother glared at her daughter. "Then again, you seem to have forgotten everything I taught you this year while you were away. I have never seen anyone more fitly, and that scar!" Her mother walked over, tracing a white finger over the mark on Angie's face. "You got that in some knife fight, I suppose?"  
  
Angie's eyes, so similar to the lady in front of her, shot daggers. She was furious. How dare her mother do this?  
  
"What do you want from me, Mother?" She said through tight lips. "It must be something. I know you didn't miss me."  
  
Then a horrible thought struck her, and it took all of Angie's willpower not to go after he mother with her pocketknife, still in her skirt.  
  
"WHAT DID YOU HAVE TO DO WITH JON?" She screamed, standing up and towering over her mother in her anger.  
  
Angie understood everything now.  
  
'She wants you back....' Jon had said. Her mother wanted her back. Her mother must have hired Jon to bring Angie to Ida, but Jon, God bless him, didn't follow through. So her mother....Angie stared at her mother in a totally new, repulsive light. She knew her mother was horrible, but she never knew she could sink this low......  
  
"Do you know that Jon is dead now?" Angie said, her voice dangerously low. "How could you send someone to kill an innocent boy.....just because he defied you?"  
  
"Jon, is it?" her mother asked with amusement. "He did seem a bit taken with you. Can't imagine why.....absolutely refused to finish the job. Though he did have many other names......a hired hit man, boy I should say......they never do go by their real names, do they?"  
  
Ida laughed cruelly and grabbed her daughter's face. Her fingers bit into Angie's cheeks, and her mother's hot breath almost choked her.  
  
"I brought you back, but not because I wanted to." Ida hissed. "God knows, you are even more hideous than the last time I saw you. Things are different around here now, since you left......I will not tolerate any more of your behavior."  
  
She let go of Angie's face and took a step back. Ida crossed her arms and started to pace the room.  
  
"I brought you back to bring money to this family." She said, almost conversationally. Angie looked on in disbelief.  
  
"Don't look at me like that, Angie. You know what I'm talking about. The March riches are gone now, and in order to keep up the lifestyle I am accustomed to...." Her slender arm waved in the air.  
  
She looked even thinner than the last time I saw her, Angie noticed.  
  
"What about Father?" Angie asked. "What about his job? Only a year ago, we seemed pretty comfortable....." The March family had never been rich, but Mr. March had always provided a comfortable living for his family, in the small brownstone.  
  
"All that is gone now." Her mother said shortly. "Your father in now in prison."  
  
"WHAT?" Angie said in disbelief. "W-why?" Her father, in jail?  
  
"He was stupid enough to get caught, that's why." Ida snapped. "You would think a mob member would have more sense......"  
  
She stopped at the large window facing the street. Back lighted, she looked like an angel, the soft green of her dress and the whiteness of her skin adding an element of fragility to the steel-hearted woman.  
  
Of course, my mother never misses a chance to look beautiful, Angie thought snidely. Scratching her scar, Angie ran her other hand through her shaggy hair, straightened her dress, and walked to the door.  
  
"I'm out of here." Angie said with a snort. "Whatever the hell you want to do to make some cash, do it alone. I left a year ago, and it was the best thing I ever did." She reached for the door handle, but her mother whirled her around and slapped her face so hard her ears rang.  
  
"You will not leave unless I say!" Her mother said, eyes shining red. "You will stay here and help your mother in her time of need!"  
  
"That's what you think!" Angie screamed right back. "You aren't my mother, not really!"  
  
Tears of rage were falling from her eyes. It was all too much....losing Jon, having to deal with her mother who was behind all this.......  
  
"What did you ever do to help me?" Angie continued, her voice rising as she yanked open the door. "I'm not staying another minute. I don't even know why I'm having this conversation with y-"  
  
She stopped in alarm when she found behind the open door a very large man.  
  
Angie gulped.  
  
This must have been the man who grabbed her, she realized. She spun around to face her mother, who was wearing a satisfied smirk.  
  
No way could I take this guy, Angie thought. And now there's no way out, save the window. But I'm four stories up........better agree to what she wants now. Think about escaping later.  
  
Angie sighed, crossing over to the bed once more. "What do you want from me?" She asked her mother tiredly. The large man entered to room and shut the door, standing in front of it.  
  
"I wouldn't escape it I were you." Ida said meanly, as she noticed her daughter eyeing the window. "Jon, or Robert as he told me, or whatever his real name was, isn't the only boy Danny over here can 'work over'. I know all about that Racetrack boy, and that Jack Kelly......he is a tasty little morsel, isn't he?"  
  
"You wouldn't." Angie whispered.  
  
"Watch me." Ida laughed. "Jon was easy, after all." She walked over to Danny and ran a hand seductively up his chest. It made Angie sick to watch her.  
  
"Now, dear. This is your first customer." Ida pushed a grinning Danny over to the bed. Angie recoiled in horror and shock.  
  
"You want me to become a prostitute?" Angie said as the room tilted. Shaking her head, she brought the room straight again. It would be no good to lose her wits now.  
  
"Your own daughter? How shameless can you be?" Angie yelled.  
  
"Not quite a whore, per say....." Ida said thoughtfully. "More of a 'call girl' to the upper class. They tip well, I hear....of course, Danny gets the first whack as a favor from me." She walked to the door and opened it, calling over her shoulder. "I'll leave you two alone now."  
  
She walked out, but then paused and turned around once again. Angie shrank back from the look in her mother's face.  
  
"And you were right, Angie darling. I'm not your mother. I'm your aunt." Ida grinned at the shocked look on her niece's face, and turned away, out the door......  
  
She shut the door behind her, the click sealing Angie's doom. 


	11. Revenges

Thank you; thank you to everyone who reviewed. When I come home after a long day at school and I run to check my mail...and I see the bot@fanfiction.net e-mail, I jump! It's the greatest!!! So review!!  
  
I'm also going to be a little shameless here and promote my new story, Doubles or Nothing. Read and review - you know the drill! (Though I noticed that Spot Conlon romances seem to do the best.......)  
  
Anyway, on with the story!  
  
Angie was numb all over.  
  
She couldn't think.  
  
So many shocks in twenty-four hours.....it's a wonder anyone could survive it.  
  
She saw, blurrily, the outline of a large man coming toward her.  
  
She saw, too, the doorknob twist close and the lock in the door click shut.  
  
But then she felt the anger, burning, consuming her. The white-hot rage that sometimes overtook her, bringing everything back into focus in a matter of seconds.  
  
The room was now full of dazzling color, but Angie didn't have time to notice it. She had to now focus on dealing with the greasy man who was almost on her.  
  
Literally.  
  
Angie backed up on the bed, scooting down towards the pillows at the head. She banged her head into the wall, and started babbling, stalling for time until she thought of what the hell to do.  
  
"You really don't want to do this.......Danny, was it?" Angie said with a winning smile. "I mean, I'm not that pretty and I'm only a little girl! You wouldn't want to hurt a little girl, now, would you?" She said this a bit desperately now, when she saw the look Danny was giving her.  
  
"Actually.......I would. You see, your 'mother' owes me a favor, and she did promise me a nice one, too." Danny put a grimy hairy hand on Angie's leg and sat the on bed. He was huge, over six feet, with oily black hair and muscle all over.  
  
Angie looked at the hand, so dark against her light blue skirt, with acute revulsion. All danger aside, she took a moment to ask God why He thought fit to created such horrid people.  
  
But the hand reminded her of something....at least where it was......  
  
She still had her pocketknife in her skirt.  
  
Angie never traveled without it. Race had given it to her, for the times he "wasn't able ta take ceah of you'se." It was pretty, with a carved wooden handle and a clever switch that allowed her to snap it open in record time.  
  
Record time she was going to need now.  
  
And if there was only a way to distract this big disgusting thug enough to get him where she wanted him.......  
  
She stretched her arm out in defeat. "OK, you got me." Angie said tiredly. "I can't fight you. Your twice my size. So just get it over with, alright?" She squeezed her eyes shut and moved her hands down her body, as if to invite Danny to do what he wanted.  
  
The man didn't waste a second. He moved over Angie's prostrate body, leaning his hands on either side of her shoulders. His face was so close.....  
  
Of course, Angie saw none of it. She just felt his hot reeking breath, and the pressure of his weight over her. Her hands were busy, trying to retriever her knife and snap it open without him noticing anything.  
  
Finally, her hands touched the smooth wood, and in a second she had the knife in it's deadly, useful position. Angie eyes flew open just in time to see Danny's face lower to kiss her.  
  
With one quick thrust, she shoved the knife deep into his chest, the blood spilling over both of them.  
  
Danny's eyes widened in pain.  
  
He gurgled a bit, clutching the weapon embedded in his chest. He collapsed on Angie, who pushed him off her, onto the floor. The brute landed with a dull thud.  
  
Angie sat up and saw the scarlet puddle over everything - the bed, Danny, herself. She felt close to vomiting at the sensation of another's lifeblood leaking out of his body.  
  
But then she remembered why she had done it, and the anger came back in full force, along with the adrenaline. She got up and stood over Danny's jerking body, the blood bubbling out of his mouth.  
  
"That was for Jon." She kicked him viscously. Danny's body jumped from the blow.  
  
He was dying, Angie knew. She might not have been a doctor, but she knew where the heart was. She knife was sticking straight out of the man's left side.  
  
The blood continued to flow, unabated, for another two minutes, while Angie watched her tormentor die.  
  
She felt cruel, and heartless.  
  
Angie knew this was just what the bastard deserved. Who knew how many others he had killed besides Jon? But still, killing wasn't in her nature.  
  
Which was more than she could say for the bitch downstairs that was Mrs. Ida March.  
  
When Angie was sure Danny was dead, she removed the knife from his chest and cleaned it off on the bedspread. She shined it, almost compulsively, until the metal was visible once again.  
  
Only then did she let the tears flow.  
  
They fell down her cheeks, in a fast stream, harder then when she had mourned for Jon.  
  
Harder even, then when she had begged for help from Cat that night.  
  
Angie looked around the room and stepped over Danny's body to the door. No matter what it took, this would be the last time her old home would be graced with her presence.  
  
Now it was time to deal with her 'mother', and Angie ran downstairs and into the drawing room.  
  
She knew Ida would be there. Every day Ida would needlepoint, some biblical saying that was ludicrously hypocritical coming from the woman's bloodied hands.  
  
Sure enough, Ida was sitting there, by the window in the afternoon light. She was stitching another sampler, and pricked her finger in shock when she saw Angie standing in the doorway, covered in blood.  
  
Before Ida had a chance to open her mouth, Angie had crossed the room and pointed the tip of the knife at her throat. The adrenaline was surging thought Angie's bloodstream, making her deadly calm and reckless all at the same time.  
  
"Who are you?" Angie hissed, looking demonic with an outfit of blood and her scar shining bright red.  
  
"Angie, dear, put the knife away." Ida said with a nervous laugh. "We don't want anyone to get hurt now, do w-"  
  
Her words died in her throat when the tip of the knife pressed into her neck, raising a dot of crimson. She looked up at the girl in front of her in shock.  
  
"Who are you? This is the last time I ask before I slit your throat." Angie stated simply, her eyes green fireballs. She had no intention of killing another person - one was enough for her, thank you.  
  
But Ida didn't know that, and it showed.  
  
"Where did all the blood come fr-" The dot of crimson grew as Angie pressed harder.  
  
"Answer my question. NOW." Angie was enraged. This woman couldn't even stop thinking about her own interests, even when a knife was at her throat.  
  
"I'm your aunt, like I said before." Ida said hastily. "Your mother died in childbirth. Your father married me soon after my sister died. He had always fancied me, anyway." Ida lifted her head proudly, the line of blood on her white throat dripping down her neck.  
  
"Why?" Angie asked, the question that had hovered on her lips for so long. "Why do you hate me so?"  
  
"Why do you think, you stupid girl?" Ida said angrily. "You are my sister's child. Of course I hate you. My sister was always the perfect one, marrying the great Yankee Mr. March, while her sister got nobody. I was always in her shadow.....and her husband, even after he married me, spent all his love on you......." Selfish tears filled her eyes. "How could I not hate you? You, with no looks or charm, still managed to remind me every day what I could never be......"  
  
"I can't believe this." Angie said with a mirthless laugh. "This entire time I was thinking it must have been something terrible I did for you to make my childhood so miserable........and the whole time it was some crazy woman's childhood jealousies." She stopped thoughtfully. "Then again, I suppose I should be more upset......" Her face darkened again when looked back at Ida.  
  
"If you ever come near me or anyone I love again, I will not hesitate to slice that lovely throat of yours." Angie whispered menacingly. "Danny is dead now. This blood you see on my clothing is not mine......not a drop of it, I'm sorry to say. Do I make myself clear......Ida?" She pressed the knife even harder.  
  
"Crystal." Ida whispered back, her green eyes glittering in anger and shame.  
  
"Good. I'm leaving now, and I don't want to see you ever again." Angie snapped the knife closed and dropped it into her pocket. Turning on her heel, she walked to the door, her back facing Ida.  
  
The wall next to her head suddenly exploded with glass.  
  
Angie whirled and dogged another vase that came hurtling at her head. She snapped her head back up and saw Ida, smirking, reaching for a marble paperweight.  
  
At this distance she couldn't miss.  
  
The door was too far away for Angie to run out.  
  
There was nothing left to do........  
  
Angie, with a swiftness born of desperation, snatched the knife out of her pocket, wrenched out the blade, and threw it.  
  
At this distance, she couldn't miss.  
  
Angie ran out of her house before she could watch another person die that day. 


	12. Revelations

Ok, I fell guilty. I have to give shutouts. But I can't because I have no time to sit and write a whole 'nother chapter with everyone in it. So ill do a modified one. Maybe next chapter!! This one went slow enough as it is.  
  
THANK YOU to Spotted One, Crunch, Lilly Fairy, Rede, Priscilla, Appolliana, Shortie, Rhapsody, AarohLohrLover, Angel, Chronicles Bailey, Dark Angel, Duchess, and anyone else I forget to mention, who have given me support (against all odds!) and kept me going from the very beginning. Thank you so much again!! Keep reading and reviewing!!  
  
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Angie ran blindly.  
  
The thoughts were crashing around in her head, scrambling her brains until she felt she was running on empty.  
  
Flashbacks of the last thirty-six hours ran before her eyes - a flash of blond curls, a crooked grin, serious hazel eyes, the deep green of a bottle, red..... They weren't complete images - just parts.  
  
Angie felt she was lucky that she was able to remember anything.  
  
The streets of New York sped by her, but Angie didn't notice anything. The hustle-bustle of the afternoon streets was like a fly buzzing in her ear. She didn't process a bit of it - not the people staring at her in the streets, at her bloody clothing, the arms reaching out to grab her.  
  
All she could do was run.  
  
Finally, she stopped, spent. Her breath was ragged, her throat screaming. Angie looked around her - her feet had carried her, whether or not she paid attention. She was a block away from the Lodging House.  
  
The sweat was pouring down her face, streaking the blood that was caked on it. Her scar stood out in stark relief, and her hair was stiff.  
  
Angie caught a glimpse of herself in a puddle on the ground, left there by the rain from this morning. She looked positively scary, with dark circles under her eyes as well.  
  
Her stomach was empty and she was parched. She hadn't eaten or drunken in almost a day, and her long run didn't help matters. Angie felt close to fainting.  
  
I have to get home, Angie thought. I must get home. There, everything will be ok. Must get home and find Race......Race and Jack.......  
  
With a burst of energy, she ran the rest of the way home and burst into the LH.  
  
Everyone was gathered in the common room, in little huddles, talking quietly. Angie noticed Jack in the corner, his head in his hands, and Race next to him, punching the wall. She could hear snatched of the conversation as she waited for someone to notice her.  
  
"I'se don't know, Race.....she could be anyweah."  
  
"I'm gonna kill ya, Jack."  
  
"We'se gotta find her. She could be in real trouble."  
  
"So what was wit dat guy Jon? I'se heah he was a stona."  
  
The words floated around her, like a gust of gentle wind. Nobody was interesting in who was standing by the door, so Angie didn't wait any longer.  
  
"RACE!" She screamed, waving her arms feebly. "Race! I'm over here!" Angie pushed her way through the stunned crowd and into her best friends arms.  
  
"Angie? Oh my God! It's you'se! Weah were ya?" Race hugged her so tight she thought her ribs would crack, ignoring the blood all over her.  
  
Jack ran over and started blubbering. "I"se so sorry, Angie, I'se didn't know....I'se was gonna kill that guy but he was already dead....." His greeny-brown eyes were very wide and scared.  
  
The guys crowded around the little group, questioning and cheering alternately. Finally, Race noticed two things - that Angie was almost completely limp in his arms, and that her clothes were entirely red....  
  
"Holy Muddah, Angie - is dat BLOOD?" Race yelped. 'What tha hell happen'd?"  
  
"Give ha some room, ya punks!" Jack yelled. "Outta da way!" Scooping Angie up in his arms, he bolted up the stairs to the bunkroom, Race in hot pursuit.  
  
Too bad I'm so out of it, Angie thought with regret. This is probably the last time Jack will carry me anywhere.  
  
Jack laid Angie tenderly down on her bed and sat next to her, Race pacing in front. Race looked at this picture, decided something was wrong, and pushed Jack off the bed so he could sit instead, and hold Angie's hand. Now Jack was the one pacing.  
  
"I'se should get tha doctah......" He muttered, glancing at what was to his a huge blood loss on Angie's part. But he seemed reluctant to leave the group, walking towards the door, then striding back over and over again.  
  
"What happened?" Race asked quietly. "Ya don't have ta tell us if you'se not ready now."  
  
"No, it's ok. I'm fine, really." She added when she saw the look on Race's face. "It's not my blood." The little Italian visibly relaxed.  
  
"Who'se is it, then?" Race looked terribly confused. "And weah did ya go last night? We'se looked foah ya everwheah in Midtown, and Spot checked Brooklyn......we even checked in da Bronx." He added meaningfully.  
  
"Angie....God, I'll neva fogive meself." Jack said vehemently. "It's all me fault, ain't it?" He looked so mad at himself Angie was afraid he was going to punch something.  
  
"It was my mother." Angie answered Race's question. "Except she isn't my mother, she's my aunt, and this blood's Danny's........." She almost laughed at the puzzlement on both their handsome faces. "Let me start from the beginning......"  
  
She spent close to an hour telling both of them the entire story. When she was finished, she leaned back on her hard pillow and closed her eyes.  
  
"That's it." Angie stated. "I don't know why my life is so messed up, but there you are."  
  
Jack and Race looked at their friend, mouths gaping like fishes. The amazement was apparent in both their eyes.  
  
"Angie......I'se so sorry. You don't even know how much. I'se been tallkin it ovah with Spot and he'se says ta leave it alone, but he was wrong......I'se so sorry, Angie." Jack was stammering out, his hands clenched into tight fists. "I'se woulda killed tha bastahd, but he dead now, ain't he......"  
  
"it's ok, really." Angie said soothingly. "Jon was a great guy......he was the one who defied my mother......a hard thing to do after all." She smiled crookedly, and a bit sadly.  
  
"Angie....I'se glad it's ovah." Race said finally, gathering his wits. "I'se nevah knew you'se was so brave! Such a coragis friend I'se got, eh, Jack?" He reached out to ruffle her hair, pulling out a cigar and giving it to Angie. She took it with a laugh.  
  
"Aw, Race, that's really not necessary." She said, as he lighted up and she began puffing away. "But now that I have it...." Race had gotten Angie hooked a while ago, and she snitched his cigars whenever she had the chance.  
  
"I'se knew you'se appreciate it." Race smiled, his eyes still wandering in amazement over Angie's bloody but unharmed body, as if to assure himself that she was, in fact, healthy hearty and whole. "I'se got ta go now, sell de last of me papes....unless ya need me?" His brown eyes looked at her worriedly. "I'se can always get Skittery ta sell 'em foa me......"  
  
"Nah, go." Angie replied, handing the cigar back to Race, who promptly popped it back into his mouth. "I'll be fine."  
  
Jack had been alternating between looking at Angie with befuddled eyes, pacing, and looking again and pacing. He looked nervous as well when Race walked out, leaving the two alone in the deserted bunkroom, the empty beds increasing the sense of isolation.  
  
"Angie......" Jack began, jiggling his foot. He walked back and forth in front of the bed Angie was laying on, her hands behind her blood-soaked hair.  
  
"I don't want to hear it, Jack." Angie cut in, staring at the springs on the bottom of Race's mattress. "It wasn't your fault, not at all. You couldn't have known." She rolled over on her side to face his sad hazel eyes. "Don't beat yourself up about it. It's all over now."  
  
Jack gazed back into her eyes, searching their greenness for a hint of deception. When he found none, Jack sat on the end of the bed and took Angie's hand in his own.  
  
"I'se wouldn't have been able ta live wit the knowledge that I hiot ya, Angie." He said softly, lacing his fingers through hers. "I'se wont evah let anyone hiot ya again. Dat's a promise."  
  
Angie was in a whirlpool of feelings. Jack's hand in hers was creating a warm spot in her heart, which had begun to beat a little bit faster. And it hurt even more every time it hit her ribs, because she knew the truth.  
  
She remembered to two nights previously, the conversation that was never finished.  
  
How Jack knew she was right for him. And she, Angie, realized it as well.  
  
But he just couldn't get it through his thick skull that there was more to a girl than her body.  
  
Angrily, she yanked her hand away from a startled Jack.  
  
"Don't think that this changes anything, Jack." She hissed. "I still remember what you said two nights ago. It still hurts me that, weather or not I like you "that way." I thought we were friends. I thought you could see beyond what's on the outside........" She stopped before the humiliating tears started falling.  
  
Jack's eyes were full of hurt, and he stood up and began to tie and untie his bandana in frustration, the red cloth flashing in his long fingers.  
  
"It ain't like that, Angie. While you'se was gone....I'se had a lot of time ta think.......and, well, I'se realized........"  
  
"Get out." Angie whispered, her crimson-stained back to him. "I never want to discuss this again." When she heard no retreating footfalls, she repeated herself, stronger this time.  
  
"You heard me, Cowboy. I don't blame you for what happened these past few days. But I am disappointed in you. I thought you were better than them......better than Ken........." She couldn't take it again.  
  
It was better not to discuss it.  
  
Ever.  
  
Than the pain and betrayal was guaranteed not to come.  
  
"GET OUT!" Angie yelled, the tears coming now. Her shoulders shook, and she slapped Jack's hand away when he put in on her shoulder in alarm. "I need to take a bath, Jackey-boy, and I don't want to burden you with the image of my ugliness." She ended on a bitter note, the sarcasm cutting the boy behind her to the bone.  
  
"Angie - " Jack's voice was anguished, tortured.  
  
"Now." Angie voice was hard, shattered.  
  
Without another sound, Jack admitted defeat and turned towards the door. He glanced over his shoulder, looked at the rumpled figure on the bed.  
  
She was so small, and weak, vulnerable. He wanted to take her in his arms, tell her all the things he felt, but was unable to because of his stupidity.  
  
If David was The Walking Mouth, Jack thought angrily, I should be The Walking Blabbermouth. I can never say the right things.....  
  
He didn't mean to say what Angie heard.  
  
He didn't mean what he said.  
  
But the words were still between them, like a heavy cloth in the air. It separated them, and nothing, Jack mused, seemed to be able to cut it open.  
  
If only she knew, he thought, if only she knew how special she really is.....pretty or not, she is beautiful in her own amazing way.....how could I have been such a fool?  
  
Jack shook his head in disgust as his thoughts. "Geez, I'se statin ta sound like Mush." He said aloud, descending the stairs to the common room, fending off questions as he did so.  
  
As his feet thumped down the worn wood, Jack thought about the girl upstairs.  
  
And as Angie lay in her bed, the tears cutting large paths thought the filth on her face, she though about the boy was who thinking of her.  
  
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There is a great risk our society is facing in these troubling times.  
  
Its called review-itis, and you get it when no one reviews your story and your computer gets dusty from lack of writing fan fiction.  
  
Don't let me or anyone else get this dreaded illness.  
  
Review now, and save yourselves and the people you love from suffering.  
  
Do it now - it only takes a minute now to ensure the health of an author for a lifetime. 


	13. Heartaches

The days and weeks passed slowly for Angie.  
  
She shuddered whenever she came near Jack, not wanting to see the confusion and sometimes anger sparking in his eyes.  
  
She did not want to be the one responsible for his suffering.  
  
She felt it too, and knew what it was like. Everyday, longing for something she could not have, heart aching from the hurt he had so carelessly inflicted.  
  
Angie went through the motions, selling papes and hanging with the boys, betting with Racetrack at the races occasionally. Race was doing his hardest to cheer her up, but nothing seemed to be working.  
  
"Heya, Angie, wanna come ta Sheepshead wit me?" He would ask cheerfully, his brown eyes worried. And Angie would come along, listlessly cheering for the horses and pretending to celebrate with her best friend whenever he won.  
  
The bright sun of the early New York winter was cold to her as the wind. The crowds in the street were silent, and the headlines hawked every day by her friends seemed childish and silly.  
  
She hated feeling this way, empty inside. She hated the way her heart beat fast whenever Jack would walk in the room, artificially happy as she was.  
  
Those were the only times of the day she felt alive, when she was discreetly observing him from across the room.  
  
Finally, after three long weeks of this, Race pulled Angie to the side. They were out on the street, Angie half-heartedly selling papers and Race watching her with pity and disgust. There were huge crowds all around them, walking and running past in a blur of colors.  
  
Not one of them bought a single paper.  
  
"Lissen, Angie, dis cant go on no more." He said quietly, looking into her green eyes. Race saw his friend crumple in an instant, her shoulders hunching and neck drooping onto her chest. The papes tumbled unnoticed to the ground, a cloud of dust following the soft thud.  
  
Angie was "lissening", all right. She knew what was happening. She was falling into a downward spiral, a great depression that she would never recover from.  
  
Someone had to do something, and soon.  
  
"I know, Race. I know." She sighed, all the life and vigor out of her. "I don't know what to do anymore. It was such a shock, with everything......and then this thing with Jack........" Her hair fell over her face, hiding it from Race's piercing gaze.  
  
"It ain't a thing, Angie." Race shook her. "It ain't something you'se gonna live without. I'se see what both of you can't, and it's enough ta drive a sane person crazy."  
  
Angie turned her head away, as tears gathered in her eyes. She couldn't take any of this anymore. She was starting to sound like a mopey heroine in a dime romance novel, but she felt powerless to do anything about it.  
  
Race looked at the girl in front of him. Really looked. He saw the hopelessness and anguish that made her body so limp and lifeless.  
  
Tenderly, he lifted up Angie's chin and brushed the hair out of her eyes.  
  
"Well, what have we heah." Race said, smiling slightly. "I'se begging ta think you'se really in love wit dat nucklehead." Angie smiled back, just a little bit, and sniffed loudly.  
  
She threw her arms around Race in a huge, desperate hug. She clung to him, never wanting to let go.  
  
"You're the only thing that makes sense now, Race." She whispered. "I'm sorry if I can't snap back so soon, but I need time. Please give me that."  
  
Race's face was troubled over her shoulder. He patted her on the back, not caring about the little boys and girls giggling and pointing at them in the street.  
  
His hand rubbed comforting circles around Angie's back, as the world went on around them, oblivious to the turmoil that was raging in two broken hearts.  
  
The other broken heart was Jack's, of course. While Angie and Race were talking and crying it out on the streets of Manhattan, Jack was punching out his frustration on the docks of Brooklyn.  
  
"I'se don't know what ta do, Spot." Jack mumbled, slapping one hand against the other repeatedly. Spot was lounging on his perch, his "throne", shooting some glass bottles that his boys had scrounged up for him.  
  
David was there too, smiling like a maniac to himself. Things were going well with him and Mary.  
  
But the group was there today to discuss Jack's problems. Spot was not exactly a professional, but he gave good advice.  
  
Sometimes.  
  
"Jackey-boy, you'se the dumbest bloke I'se evah seen." Spot said, making another bottle explode. He took a stone in his fingers and rolled it around idly.  
  
"Shaddup, Spot. I'se come here today ta get advice, not insults. Ya want me ta soak ya or sometin?" Jack replied angrily. He paced up and down the dock. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.  
  
"I'se been torn up inside, Davey." Jack continued, hoping for a more sympathetic ear. "I ain't been sleepin at nite, I can't even be in da same room as her. I know she likes me, I'se jist don't think she'll each fohgive me," he ended sadly. He plopped down next to David who was dangling his feet over the edge of the dock.  
  
"Well, whatcha said was pretty stupid, even foah you. Or what you'se didn't say." Spot said with an evil grin, his gray eyes lit up. He came to sit next to both his friends.  
  
The threesome gazed out at the water, each with separate thoughts. The compatible silence was finally broken by David's articulate voice.  
  
"Jack, you have to do something to make her understand how you feel." David said. "Like with Mary and I......."  
  
Spot and Jack groaned. David had been blabbering non-stop about Mary ever since their first date.  
  
"Mary and I......well, she likes the romance." David continued, purposely ignoring his friends. "I get her flowers, chocolates....whatever I can afford. It's worth it when I see her face......Spot, shut up before I soak ya."  
  
David looked sharply at the Brooklyn leader who was fluttering his eyelashes at him, a parody of David's dreamy eyes.  
  
But Jack jumped up, all exited. "Dat's a great idea! Davey's, you'se the greatest!" He started to pace once more, but this time it was a joyous pacing. "I'll do sometin really speacial foa her, and she'll realize how I'se really feel bout her! Like, I'se gonna.......um, well.......er......" He stopped. "Davey, what should I do? I'se have no idea how ta make a giol come ta me. Deys always jist flock to me, ya know?"  
  
He said this completely seriously, not noticing Spot rolling his eyes.  
  
"I thinks dat's a great idea, Jackey-boy." Spot laughed. "De only ting is, you'se have no idea what ta do. Boy, are you'se gonna blow this one. Angie's gonna hatechoo foah de rest of her life." The short, handsome newsie was about to hop onto his throne once again when he was yanked back by his collar.  
  
"Ya lissen ta me, Spot." Jack growled, his face an inch from his friend's. "I'se take a lot of crap from ya, but weah Angie is concerned, ya jist don't go there. Got it?"  
  
Even Spot looked scared in the face of Jack's fury. With a cocky grin that hid his nervousness, he said, "Sure, ya got me, word, Cowboy." He pushed the taller boy's hand off the scruff of his neck and climbed up onto his seat.  
  
"Really, Jack, you have to do something soon." David said, looking at Jack with troubled eyes. "She's just as miserable as you are. You two idiots don't see it, but both of you have to resolve this situation already. You're driving everybody crazy with the goggle-eyes you make at her every time you see her."  
  
David yawned as laid back against the splintery wood of the dock, looking up at the reddening sky.  
  
Jack looked at the calm water of the East River, different shades of green reflecting the sunset. So green, he thought. Just like her eyes.......he ran a hand through his blond hair in distress.  
  
I have nothing to do, he said to himself in defeat. I have nothing to show for how I acted. Nothing will make Angie forgive me. Not flowers, not candy, not even a candle-lit dinner at a very expensive restaurant. Those are pitiful things. She'll just laugh in my face.  
  
Jack felt very close to tears, which was horrible. He NEVER cried.  
  
God, what she did to him!  
  
He remembered the first time he had met her. The first thing he noticed then was the scar, of course. It wasn't even a scar then, more like a recently healed wound.  
  
Jack didn't even know how she got it.  
  
And why is that, you stupid idiot? Because you never asked, the voice inside Jack's head answered for him. You never cared enough to ask about her life, her problems. You just went to her when you needed help, to whine and complain.  
  
He recalled how her little, round body had thrown him off at first. Jack never thought she would make it on the streets, where life was cruel and unfair. You needed to be tough, and strong, and fast, and Angie didn't look any of that, with her slow gait and shaggy hair, the long skirts she always wore.  
  
Her sad eyes had thrown him off the most.  
  
And then there was the time Jack had realized a kind, funny, caring person with a heart of gold was hidden in the plain package. Someone who always knew how to make him feel better, get him to laugh when the headlines were bad and the sun didn't shine in his world.  
  
Angie was special. She wasn't pretty, she wasn't sexy, and she wasn't even that sweet all of the time.  
  
But she had that something, Jack thought, a fist squeezing his heart. She had that something that always kept him going, even on the days when he didn't want to get of bed. On those days, all it took was a cheerful, "Get outta bed, Cowboy!" and his day started great.  
  
The day he realized that she wasn't just Angie anymore, Angie his friend, his buddy, was the first time in his life he had felt lacking in something. Lacking because she didn't know - didn't feel the same.  
  
She didn't know then; it had been long before that night with Jon and Spot's party. He had woken up that morning with a silly grin on his face.  
  
Jack knew what his heart wanted, but ignored it and listened, instead, to what his jaded mind said.  
  
"Look at her." The ugly little man in his mind would say. "She don't look like that little lady over there. She's so round and plain. How can you possibly be attracted to THAT?"  
  
He had listened for almost a month, going out with every pretty girl that crossed his path in order to shut the man up and satiate his heart.  
  
It never worked.  
  
He didn't see, not for the longest time.  
  
He didn't see that she was as loyal as Crutchy and as smart as David. She was as sneaky as Spot and as funny as Blink.  
  
But she was Angie, all to her own.  
  
She's the person I.......Jack gulped to himself. He couldn't even bring himself to say the word, even in his own mind, where Spot shooting marbles and David skipping stones couldn't hear.  
  
But his brain was about to burst, bombarding him with THAT word......zooming around - over and over -  
  
"Dammit, she's the person I love!" Jack screamed out, jolting Spot who fell into the water with a huge splash, and causing David to smack his forehead in gesture that said "Finally! By George, he's got it!"  
  
She's the person I love, Jack cried in his heart.  
  
And it looks like I can never, ever have her.  
  
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Ok, hope y'all weren't too sickened by this chapter. Sorry, guys, I had to add a little fluff. This IS a romance, after all. Plus it's kinda necessary to the plot line. Also, I wanted to do a little bit of Jack's POV on Angie for once.  
  
Hoped you like it!!  
  
Ok, here are the shutouts for all of you who have tirelessly reviewed and kept me alive.  
  
Spotted One: I don't even know what to say. You have been with me from the beginning, making sure that I don't forget my stations as the young punk. As long as you're there to review, I'll be there to remind you how ancient you are!  
  
Rede: I love your reviews, and the sometimes constructive criticism! By the way, I love the cliffhanger thing. Hehe. Makes for more reviews!  
  
Priscilla: thanks so much! Every chapter you review, and you do not even know how much I look forward to them. Thanks so much and keep doing it! So glad you love Angie! I love her too, I must say....  
  
Duchess: Don't worry bout being disgustingly helpful....you can be helpful, but not disgusting. Hehe corny joke. I crack myself up sometimes. (can you tell I'm sick right now?) love your reviews for almost every chapter!! Thanks so much and keep on reading!  
  
Gambler: Hey, who are you calling a penis? Lol just kidding. Well all know Jack can be a jerk sometimes. Thanks for the reviews and keep on reading!  
  
Apolliona: Babe, I gotta say you get all the plot twists before I do! Don't tell everyone - I like to keep people in the dark! Thanks so much for your many reviews!  
  
Dark Angle: Your reviewing in the face of danger is wonderful. May in that merit you keep the computer and be able to read Angie freely from now on (and review, of course.)  
  
Shortie: I love your long and many reviews!! Keep sending them!! I'm sure Mush is a good kisser, by the way. That girl was just a b***h.  
  
Rae Kelly: Dude, how did you like the rest of the story? Im glad you liked the prologue! Send a review and let me know.  
  
AaronLohrLover24: That is one l-o-o-ng name, by the way. Anyway, thank you so so much for all your reviews. The part with "at this distance, she couldn't miss" is one of my favorite lines, as well. I thought it was pretty cool and I'm so glad someone noticed it!  
  
Bottles: So, what's the deal here, huh? Like the rest of the story or not? Keep reading and send a review or two or three so I know you liked it! (even if now, just pretend and send a review anyway.)  
  
Rhapsody: Thanx so much for reviewing every single chapter! Its people like you that keep me going through writer's block, ffn eating everything, and general bad moods. Keep sending em and keep reading! Ps - can I borrow that superhero cape of yours?  
  
Ursula: I was so disguted by all the mary sues out there that I felt I had to write an anti-may sue - and this was before I even knew what a mary sue was! Thanks so much for all the reviews and keep rooting for Angie! She needs it.  
  
Lilly Fairy: Your support is amazing, and I'm so glad you like the story! I'll try to keep you hooked as long as possible. I love you too! (%n) Keep reviwing and reading! I'll be chekin on Nicole ASAP!  
  
Crunch: Thank you so much for your beautiful review! The landlasy story is SO awesome, by the way. How cool! Keep up the three R's - reading, reviewing, and riting! (gee wilikers, that was corny.)  
  
Chronicles Bailey: I SWEAR I will finish this. But what will you do to me if I wont? *wink, wink* Keep on reading and reviewing! (I keep typing this over and over and each time I spell it wrong. Sheesh.)  
  
That's all for now, folks!!  
  
NOW REVIEW AND MAKE ME HAPPY!!!! (plus you MIGHT get another shout out. I know I love them!) 


	14. Returns

Hey, guys! Thank you so much for the reviews!! They mean the world to me......you know the drill....yeah, anyway. Here's the rest of the story! I PROMISE shout outs in the next chapter. I was just WAY to busy to do it this time. Sorry guys, you know I love you all!  
  
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It had been a very very long day, Angie cursed to herself as she climbed the stairs to the bunkroom. Emotionally and physically.....  
  
Emotionally, that little conversation with Race. She had cried on his shoulder for fifteen minutes, in the middle of the street, no less! All her feeling of hurt, resentment and confusion had left along with the saltwater drops, and she felt cleansed and clearheaded.  
  
She had finally decided on a course of action. Angie knew what she was going to do with Jack. All she needed now was Jack to actually show his face.  
  
Angie walked to her bed, not noticing that she was stumbling over laundry and shoes. She was lost in her thoughts, her plans.  
  
Her green eyes were clouded, but they were no longer sad.  
  
Suddenly, the scratchy wooden floor came up to me her. Angie landed on her face, her cheek slamming into the wood and her palms slapping down so hard they stung.  
  
The air was knocked out of her for a second, and she got up gingerly when the laughter of the boys made her laugh too. She had tripped over a pair of pants thrown carelessly onto the floor by her bed, and Angie untangled the gray flannel from around her blue-skirted legs with a wry smile.  
  
"Ya shoulda seen da look on ya face, Angie." Blink said with a chuckle as he helped her up.  
  
"You guys all got your laugh for the day, huh?" Angie said sheepishly. "Sorry, I wasn't looking were I was going.....though somebody," she looked pointedly at Bumlets, "Shouldn't have left his pants in the middle of the floor. Ahem."  
  
"How'se did ya know it was mine?" Bumlets said in mock outrage. "I'se happen ta know dey's Mush's." He waved his stick at Angie threateningly.  
  
"I don't think so, dear." Angie said with a smile. She pointed to the large patch on the seat. "I was the one who sewed that for you, remember?" She tossed the pants at Bumlets' head and turned to Blink. "Have you seen Race anywhere?"  
  
She and Race had separated right before returning to the LH. Angie had needed to buy some "unmentionables" and Race did NOT want to tag along for that one. She hadn't seen hide or hair of his cute little body since.  
  
"I dunno." Blink answered, adjusting his eye patch. "He aint been hea since da mornin'."  
  
"Really? That's strange. He said he was heading right back here. I went somewhere after we went selling.....he should have been here at least an hour ago." Angie said thoughtfully. Then she shrugged. Race must have gone somewhere. You never knew with that guy.  
  
"Heya, Angie." Jack said quietly as he crept up behind her. Angie jumped three feet in the air and shrieked.  
  
"JACK! How many times have I told you not to sneak up on me like that? Geez!" Angie yelled, scowling at the grinning boy in front of her. Then she had to laugh when she saw his face - it was the first time in a very long while that Angie was able to talk to Jack without feeling awkward.  
  
Guys were milling around them, talking and laughing and shouting, throwing clothes in the air and playing cards in the corner. Angie had cherished all these things when she first came to the LH, to her new life. They symbolized freedom, happiness in the company of friends, even the midst of life's troubles. But lately the giddiness and fun of a newsie's life was lost to her.  
  
Now she felt some joy creep into her heart. It was the lightest she had felt in days.  
  
It felt fantastic.  
  
"Jack.....let's just forget about it, alright?" Angie murmured, turning smilingly serious. "We'll start from scratch." She looked into his hazel eyes hopefully.  
  
Jack grinned down - way down - at the stubby girl in front of him. "Sure thing, Angie." He ruffled her hair, but in his eyes, Angie could see something else. "I'se gotta go take care o' somtin now, but can I talk ta ya when I git back?" His eyes were dark and nervous.  
  
"Sure, Cowboy. I'll see you later." Angie smiled at Jack at stood on tiptoe to kiss him lightly on the cheek, something she hadn't done in far too long.  
  
Astonished, Jack lifted a hand to the cheek she had just touched and smiled a bigger smile then she had ever seen. Her heart lifted from the look her gave her.  
  
Touching his fingers to the brim of his hat, Jack gave Angie and the other newsies a mock salute and swaggered out of the bunkroom, whistling.  
  
Blink walked over to Angie as she turned back to her bed. It was covered from pillow to foot with clothes and scraps of cloth, left over from the dress she had half-heartedly started this morning.  
  
"Ya sure seemed ta make Cowboy pretty happy ova there." Blink said with a sarcastic smile. "Wonda what dat was 'bout?"  
  
"Lay off, you scabba." Angie replied with a wink. "It isn't any of your business. So go bother someone else." She brushed some of the clothes off her bed into the trunk she kept under it and flopped down.  
  
Her feet hit the mattress with a soft thump, but her head slammed into the pillow with a hard crack.  
  
"YOW!" She shrieked, causing all the newsies to halt in their tracks and Mush, Pie Eater and Blink to run over.  
  
"What tha hell was dat foa?" Mush asked. "You'se seem okay ta me." He inspected her body for injuries. The other guys just looked at her like she was a bit off her rocker.  
  
"There's something on my pillow....." Angie said in surprise. She reached behind her head and felt, underneath all the layers of padding, an extremely hard object.  
  
She flipped over on her stomach and tossed the clothes onto the floor in a rush, digging out her pillow. She didn't think she left anything there this morning.....  
  
Her stomach dropped.  
  
Stuck in her pillow was a knife - her knife, the one she had left at her old house, supposedly stuck in Ida's chest. And it was pinning a scrap of paper to the feather-filled sack.  
  
With trembling fingers, Angie yanked out the knife and sat up to read the paper. In a scrawling, feminine script the note read:  
  
Angie -  
  
You didn't really think it was over, did you? Meet me in the Scarlet Box tonight at  
  
midnight sharp.  
  
As an added incentive, I've got that Racetrack boy. Quite a cutie, isn't he?  
  
I. M.  
  
Her face grew white as a sheet as she read the paper over and over, not comprehending, until it finally registered and anger made her vision go red.  
  
Ida was NOT going to this all over again. Once was enough.  
  
This was war.  
  
It was now or never, and this time, Angie would make sure that bitch was gone.  
  
"Get Jack." Angie said to the astonished boys around her, her voice steely. Blink ran off, and Angie got up slowly, sliding the knife into the waistband of her skirt.  
  
This time she had Jack, and the rest of the newsies.  
  
This time she was prepared.  
  
And this time, Ida would get what was coming to her. 


	15. Resolutions

Thank you, thank you to all my loyal fans. Here is another chapter of Sparker goodness, straight to you from my typing little fingers. Hahah, you cant read the shout outs until you read the chapter!! Well, you could just skip to the bottom but why miss all the good stuff in between? Lol. Enjoy!  
  
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Jack came flying into the bunkroom, after Blink had run off to get him as fast as his long legs would carry him.  
  
"Whatssamatta?" Jack gasped, holding his chest. He had been almost down the block when Blink had caught up to him. "Why'se we all hea? Tell me." He looked around at all the set faces and finally landed on Angie's stone cold one. "Angie...."  
  
"Jack, listen to me. We have to go fight, now. I know this sounds crazy, but Ida's back - "  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
"And we need to go rescue Racetrack, cause she's got him - "  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
"And all the newsies have got to come with me, all of you...I need you all right now. It's never going to be over until we finish her once and for all."  
  
All the other guys hadn't heard the story before now. They had assumed, sure, that something awful must have been written on that piece of paper for Angie's face to go white like that. Most of them didn't even know who Ida was - actually, only Race, Jack, and David knew. She had told David a while ago. But when a newsie hears "rescue" and one of their own friend's names together in one sentence - "Racetrack", no less - watch out.  
  
"She's got RACETRACK? How did she - " Jack spluttered.  
  
"That's not important now. We have to save him and get rid of her. That's our plan....for now, at least," Angie said, trying mightily to keep her voice from shaking. She couldn't give in to her emotions - if she started crying, she would never stop.  
  
Probably ever.  
  
"Ok, then." Jack's leadership qualities started taking over, calming him down. Which calmed everyone else down too, once they realized that they had a plan - or were getting one monetarily.  
  
"We'se gotta split up. Were are we supposed to go, Angie?"  
  
"The Scarlet Box?"  
  
"Yeah, I'se know the place. Alright, Bink, Snoddy, and, er, Boots, you two is gonna take half da newsies. Go round through Midtown to the place, you'se know weah it is, right?"  
  
The boys nodded and grabbed some of the younger newsies, Boots snatching a couple of switchblades as he passed his bed, tossing them to the others. Blink took his metal knuckles he had pinched off Oscar Delancy one day, and Snoddy grabbed Mush. He was the strongest newsie, after all, besides for Jack.  
  
"Ok, me an Angie's gonna go wit Snipeshooter, Bumlets, an whoeva's left. Take whateva weapons you'se got. We aint takin' any chances."  
  
Jack turned to Angie, a question in his eyes, as if to say, "was that okay?" Angie gave him a curt nod and turned to leave.  
  
Blinks group left through the front door, Angie and Jack's through the back. They were both going separate ways, in order to be able to keep guard on both sides of their destination.  
  
"What is the Scarlet Box, exactly?" Angie asked Jack as they hurried through the rapidly gathering darkness.  
  
"It's a nightclub." Jack answered, turning into a dark corner and pulling Angie next to him. The rest of the boys came, and they formed a little huddle.  
  
"Ok, we'se almost thea." Jack whispered. "I told Blink an the rest of tha guys what ta do. Bumlets, what time is it?" He was the only one with a watch.  
  
"Almost ten."  
  
"Ok, then we'se got time. Hea's what we'se gonna do. Snipeshooter, run ta Brooklyn an get Spot. The rest of ya, follow me."  
  
Snipeshooter ran off into the darkness, and Jack ran down the alley, Angie and the rest hot at his heels. Finally, they stopped in front of a dingy little building, with cracked windows and bright red door.  
  
"Is this it? Are you sure, Jack?" Angie whispered. "I don't think Ida would ever come here - "  
  
"Yeah, I'se sure." Jack hissed back. "Quiet, all of you. I'se goin in, and ya all stay out hea. I'll be back in a second." He pushed a kid behind some boxes in the corner. "Hide behind those."  
  
Angie peeked out from her filthy hiding place and tried not to think about what was in here with her. Jack straightened his bandanna and knocked three times on the red door, sharp taps that echoed in the not-so-deserted alley.  
  
After a few minutes of all of them fidgeting, the door creaked open. A sliver of amber light illuminated Jack, and a slender hand gripped the doorjamb.  
  
"Who'se there?" The voice was husky, scratchy - from purpose or smoking, Angie could not be sure.  
  
"Jack Kelly."  
  
"I don't know any Jack Kelly. Get outta here."  
  
"Wait - it's Francis, Francis Sullivan."  
  
A pause. Angie held her breath and clapped a hand over the mouth of a small newsie next to her.  
  
"Shane Sullivan's kid?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
The door opened wider, and an emaciated woman stood there, garbed in a long red dress, cut low to show her pathetic cleavage. Her hair was long, scraggily, and black, and her nails matched her dress in length and color.  
  
"Francis Sullivan." The woman stated without emotion. 'What brings you to these parts after all these years? I hear your old man's in the slammer."  
  
"Yeah, dat's true." Jack said, his voice chilly. "Ya know what else is true, Margie? Ya owe me a favoa."  
  
"I suppose that is right.....very well." Margie whirled around and went back though the open door. "Come in, and we'll discuss it."  
  
The door shut behind the silhouette of Jack's broad back, leaving the alley in darkness once again.  
  
"Don't move!" Angie whispered angrily to the squirming boys next to her. "We are going to wait here until Jack gets back. Stop!" She grabbed a kid just before he would have tumbled out of the stack of boxes.  
  
"Bumlets, what time is it?" She asked.  
  
"Almost ten-thioty."  
  
She sighed and waited. And waited.  
  
And waited some more.  
  
And still Jack did not re-appear.  
  
The kids were getting restless and scared, moving around and whispering. Angie didn't have the heart to shut them up. She was pretty nervous, herself.  
  
Suddenly, the door opened again, violently with a loud crack. Yellow light spilled over the trash and filth of the alley as all the newsies became instantly silenced.  
  
"....don't ever come here again, Francis. Tell your da when he gets out that Margie's waiting." A hoarse laugh and Jack came stumbling out the door. The red wood slammed shut behind him as he rubbed his face with his bandanna, wiping off - was that lipstick? - from his cheeks.  
  
Jack looked around carefully, making sure no one was behind him. "Angie, ya can come out now," he called softly.  
  
Groans of relief were heard as the boys untangled themselves from wooden crates and each other. Angie bolted up and ran to Jack, crunching god-knows- what underneath her feet in her haste.  
  
"What was THAT about?" She demanded. "Do you realize that it's almost midnight? We haven't got any time! And why do you have lipstick all over your face - "  
  
"Goddamit, Angie, shut up!" Jack snarled. At the stricken look at her face, he softened. "I'se sorry, Angie, but ya don't know what jist happen in thea. I'll tell ya in a minute. We'se gotta hurry." He motiined for the boys to come closer and bent his head to speak to the shorter ones.  
  
"Ok, this is what we'se gotta do. Bumlets, Blink and tha rest of 'em are waitin on tha otha side of this place. I'se got tha owner of this join ta let me and Angie use her loft. We'se gonna be inside, and ya all's gonna be out hea, waitin until I give the signal that ya should come bargin in." He said this very fast, his voice hushed.  
  
"What's the signal, Cowboy?" One of them asked.  
  
"When I take my red bandanna and tie it ta that window ova thea." He pointed to a small window in the corner, just where the edge of the building met the one next to it. "Don't do anythin' until ya all see it. Got it?" He looked from one boy to the next, at their nodding heads. "Good. I'll see ya laitah."  
  
He grabbed Angie's arm and pulled her through a scarred metal door she hadn't seen before, way off in the corner of the building, hidden behind an overhang that left that section deep in shadows. Inside, there were stairs that led up to a small rectangle of light.  
  
"Going to tell me what this is about, Jacky-boy?" Angie said, staring up at the narrow, winding staircase.  
  
"I....well, I can tell ya some of it." Jack muttered, beginning to climb up. Looking back, he said, "Come on, we'se only got half an hour left."  
  
As the pair climbed and eventually reached the tiny loft, littered with straw and dirt, looking over the ugly hookers and drunken men dancing in the spotty candlelight, Jack began to speak.  
  
"That woman was me dad's mistress, way back when we'se a family. I hate her, but she owed me a favor, cause once when I got tha bulls off her case. I got us some infoimation about this Ida person and Racetrack. Seems dat Ida's been comin heah a lot latey, woikin for some extrey cash........she's supposed ta be hea soon, right thea in that corner." He pointed to a booth on the opposite side of the room, faded red velvet and cracked oak.  
  
"So....wait, I still don't understand.....if she knows, isn't that going to jeopardize everything? And just what, exactly, are you planning to do? Cant we just go and ki - "  
  
Jack interrupted Angie's flood of questions with a large hand over her mouth. Angie's green eyes became very wide as she struggled.  
  
"Ooommmph....."  
  
"Angie, I can't deal wit all these questions right now. Jest keep ya mouth shut, ok?" He said nervously, glancing around the deserted loft as if someone was there with them, listening. But of course, it was empty. There was no room at all for anyone to hide.  
  
Jack pulled his hand away, and Angie wiped her mouth, glaring at him. Jack just smirked and put a finger to his lips, going back to watching the dance floor. With butterflies in her stomach, Angie joined him.  
  
She wondered what the rest of the guys were doing. Why did Jack send them away? Where they just surrounding the place, or doing something more? Angie guessed she would find out later......probably too late.  
  
Her green eyes roamed around the floor beneath them, taking in all the hideous and pathetic sites. There were more drunken men than she had ever seen in her life, and that included Newsie parties, which were notably well provided for in the booze area.  
  
Gentlemen mingled with lumberjacks, the contrast of well cut silk and flannel not quite as shocking as one would think. Underneath, everyone is the same, she mused. Men all act the same way, given the right conditions.  
  
And here were some very juicy conditions, indeed. It took all of Angie's willpower to keep from looking at Jack every minute, to see if he was checking out the women flaunting themselves down below. These women were the most vulgar she had ever seen, with wisps of cloth that barley hid their saggy bodies and hair that looked like bird's nests. All of them were disgusting, except for one. She was beautiful, as much as Angie could see of her. Black hair, white skin, curves like she'd never seen......  
  
Wait a minute.  
  
Angie looked once again, just to be sure. When she was positive she knew it was who the thought it was, she tugged at Jack's sleeve. He had fallen into a light doze and woke up with a start.  
  
"What? I didn't do notin - "  
  
"Jack, look!" Angie pointed. "That's Ida, over there. No, not there. THERE. The pretty one."  
  
The boy looked and did a double take. "That's out villain? I was expectin a hoity tioty broad or sometin. She's jist a whore!" He ended in wonderment, rubbing his eyes. "So, wea's Race? He should be nea her."  
  
"He's over there." Angie said softly, her heart beating very fast. She gestured towards the little booth Jack had showed her earlier. If she squinted, she would make out a hunched over figure all the away in the back.  
  
Poor Race, Angie cried to herself. This is all my fault.  
  
"Ok, so we'se goin' in? I'll go tie up the flag - "  
  
"No, wait." Angie put a restraining hand on Jack's arm. "Don't call anyone else. This is my fight. I just need you for backup....." She looked out at the shimming woman, and then at the booth. "I need to do this alone."  
  
"But, we'se got a plan - "  
  
"Jack. I realize that nothing is going to stop her......nothing except me. It should be midnight right now. I'm going down there, and I'm going alone. Stay if you want, but I don't expect that I'm going to have to call you." She patted the knife in her belt.  
  
Jack snorted as he looked at her small weapon. "Ya think that's gonna stop a hardened criminal?"  
  
"That isn't the point." Angie stated, her face already hardening as she prepared to fight. "I need to do this for myself as well."  
  
With that, she started for the stair, Jack right behind her the whole way. When they got to the bottom of the rickety staircase, Jack looked at her and sighed.  
  
"We'se all gonna be right outside, waiting. Ya need help, jest holla......but I sippose notin I'se can say will get ya ta chage ya mind." He said, slipping the Cowboy hat over his dirty hair.  
  
"No." Angie said simply. She turned to go, shoulders straight and head high. She was more nervous than she had ever been before in her life, but it was something she had to do, to close the door to her past and her demons.  
  
"Wait." Jack called from behind her.  
  
Angie looked over her shoulder and was met with a chest. Glancing up in surprise, she saw Jack was right behind her. She turned around all the way and stood in front of him, waiting.  
  
He stared down at her for w few moments, his face in shadows from the night and his hat. Hesitantly, he reached out a hand to stroke her cheek....the scarred one.  
  
Angie didn't move a muscle.  
  
His right hand cupped her cheek gently, his skin warm against hers. Angie looked up into his shadowed face, her smaller hand wrapping around his, the one that held her face.  
  
Slowly, he brought his face down, low. He stopped right before his lips touched hers, both their breaths warm against the other. Angie's heart was racing, and if she listened closely, she thought she heard his pounding as well.  
  
When he didn't detect any resistance, Jack brought his mouth down all the way.  
  
The kiss was short and hot, built up passion that had been simmering for weeks exploding into one ten second block of heaven. Angie felt like she was spinning, the world running without her.  
  
Time had stopped, but she didn't want it to continue.  
  
It was she who broke it, all too soon. She pulled away, and Jack straightened up.  
  
Smiling, Angie adjusted Jack's hat. "What was that for?"  
  
His face was serious, vulnerable. His words were just as intense.  
  
"In case you don't come back."  
  
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Ok, I hope ya'll like that!  
  
ANGIE AND JACK'S FIRST KISS!!! AWWW!!!  
  
Ok, ahem. Here are the well deserved and long awaited shoutouts!!  
  
Spotted One: I don't know why, but I always do you first. Anyway, thanks a billion for all the reviews!!! I really, REALLY hope you feel MUSH (heheh, that was a typo and I decided to leave it in) better! I hope this makes your day, just a little bit! Say hi to your cat for me.  
  
Priscilla: Jack. He is like, the cure to all my problems. No need to ask for more! Thanks a billion for the review!!  
  
Angel: MWAAHHHH!! This is my secret power, that is given to soap operas as well. I can bring characters to LIFE!! HAHAHAH!! Oh, by the way, thanks for the review!  
  
Duchess: Thank you so much for taking the time to review both chapters! I always forget to do that. Also, mucho thanks for the point about the scabba. I hope you got my review that explains it!  
  
Lilly: NEWSIE COMFORTERS!! CANT WAIT!!!! And yea, thanks for the review!! Dark Angle - keep up hope!  
  
Rede: This wet Spot thing seemed to be a huge hit. Maybe I should do it more often! Thanks for the review!!  
  
Apollonia: Yes, I must admit, I am very intriguing. What can I say? Lol. Thanks for the review!  
  
Act O'Reilly: I know, poor poor Race. But he had to suffer for the story line. Sorry! Thanks so much for your review!!  
  
Rhap: A billion thanks for this review and all the rest. Keep em coming!  
  
Rumor: Ida is going to get her butt kicked BIG TIME. Sorry I can't tell you more, but that would be giving it away. Sorry bout those broken bones, but keep reading and reviewing if you want me to STAY ALIVE!! (Staying alive, staying alive....)  
  
Anyway, that's all she wrote! REVIEW AND MAKE ME HAPPY!! 


	16. Endings

Thank you, thank you to all the people who reviewed!! If you could see the way my face looks every time I get a review alert, you would think I was nuts. Anyway, here's the next installment! Hope you enjoy! Read and review!  
  
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Angie slunk to the side of the building, after shooing Jack away with one last chaste kiss. She would have stayed longer, but she needed to get on with this mission of hers.  
  
Sheesh, Angie thought to herself. Jack has the worst timing in the world. Why couldn't he kiss me at another time - say, when my life isn't in danger? She sighed and peeked around the battered scarlet door that led into the frenzy and chaos within - and to Race.  
  
The coast was clear, as far and Angie could tell. Pushing her hair out of her eyes, she gripped the knife in her belt and slooowly eased her way through the door, trying her hardest not to disturb anything. That could be her greatest folly - getting noticed by the wrong people.  
  
Or more specifically, the wrong person.  
  
The room was smoky and crowded, filled with sparkling dresses and glinting bottles. Angie could see the failing arms and kicking legs, the bobbing heads of the drunkards and the sensuous movements of the women.  
  
The sight made her stomach twist even more.  
  
Squinting through the haze, Angie crept along the wall and aimed for the booth in the corner. She spied Ida still on the other side of the room, dancing with a handsome gentleman who had no idea what he was getting himself into.  
  
At least she had time. Angie ran towards the faded red booth, bent over, dodging groping hands and protruding feet that seemed placed there specifically to trip her.  
  
She almost tripped on bottle once, but caught herself right before she would have smashed into the sticky floor.  
  
Finally, she reached the booth. Angie looked wildly over her shoulder to make sure no one was looking; Ida was still occupied, but looking more and more uncomfortable by the second.  
  
She must have realized what time it is, Angie thought. And she can't get away - but it's only a matter of time before she kicks that man in the balls and heads over here. Gotta hurry.  
  
Angie slipped onto the threadbare cushions of the secluded booth and gently tapped the figure sitting opposite her, who was engulfed in a large blanket. There was no response.  
  
"Race!" Angie hissed, thumping against the scratchy woolen cloth that covered the boy. "Race, wake up! It's me, Angie! We have to get out of here!"  
  
The gray bundle stirred a bit and a moan floated through the wrapping.  
  
"Oh....Anige, is dat you? Tell me it's you...." Hands pushed from inside, trying desperately to get out. The voice was raspy and weak, but unmistakably Race's. It broke Angie's heart to see and hear him like this.  
  
"Oh, God, Race I am so sorry." Angie mumbled hastily while helping Race free himself. "Please, please be alright. Oh, God, Race - "  
  
"Angie, get outta of hea.....right now.... "  
  
"Anthony Higgins, just shut up and let me get you out of this." Angie said, slashing furiously at the frayed rope that wound all around Racetrack.  
  
Finally, he was freed. Angie yanked the blanket off and stared into her friends face; he was pale and sweating. Race took huge breaths of the foul air, his chest heaving.  
  
"Thank tha Lord, I though ya guys would neva get hea." Race said, cracking his wiseass grin. Angie laughed shakily and hugged him so tight that Race yelped, forgetting for a moment where they were and what was around them.  
  
"Whatcha tryin ta do, kill me afta all this?"  
  
"I'm sorry!" Angie gasped, pulling away. "I'm so, so sorry, you cant even imagine. This is all my fault. I promise, this is never going to happen again." She searched his face when a thought struck her. "Did she hurt you?"  
  
Race looked down at his now freed hands, red and chaffed on the wrists. In the silence, Angie could hear the background noise getting louder and remembered everything with a jolt.  
  
"Listen, Race, we'll talk about this later." She said, helping Race to his feet. He was weak and shaky, but his pride would not let him lean on Angie for too long. "Can you manage to walk over the that door over there?" She pointed the little metal door in the corner, the one she and Jack had used to get up to the loft. Apparently, there was another entrance to the stairs from in here; that would lead outside as well.  
  
"I think so." Race said doubtfully, swaying on his feet for a second as he judged the distance.  
  
'Whoa, never mind. I'll take you and come back." Angie said, swinging Race's arm around her shoulder. "Come on."  
  
"What do ya mean, you'se gonna come back?" Race whispered as the two moved awkwardly to the door, trying their best not to be noticed too much. Angie saw that Ida was still occupied with that gent - he must have been paying her very well - but she couldn't count on her staying busy all night.  
  
"I have to come back to take care of Ida, of course."  
  
"Ida wh - THAT Ida??"  
  
"The very same. I want to know everything when we are all safe, but now we just have to get you to Jack. He's waiting outside with everyone else." Angie murmured into Race's ear as they drew closer to the outside.  
  
Finally, they reached the door and Angie pushed it open with much effort. Race was getting weaker by the moment.  
  
She didn't even want to think of what Ida could have done to him.  
  
"Ok, Race, here we are." Angie gestured to the deserted alley. She boosted Race up one more time before giving up and allowing him to slump gently to the ground, leaning his back against the wall.  
  
"Jack." She called softly. No answer. "Jack!" Her echo rang against the brick walls.  
  
This time she could hear shuffling whispers, and boys began to climb out of every corner. Angie smiled as she saw Dutchy unfold himself from a dark cranny on in the wall and Mush slither out from underneath the trash pile. Jack came running around the corner three seconds later.  
  
"Race," Angie said, crouching down in front of her friend. His eyes were feverish and wild, and she thought he looked like he had a fever. "Race, look at me. Jack is here now. Someone is going to take you back to the Lodging House, ok? Race?" Angie was trying her hardest to keep her voice from breaking. He wasn't looking; wasn't doing anything but shivering.  
  
If nothing else, she would kill Ida for doing this to Racetrack.  
  
Race focused finally on Angie's eyes, helped some when she took his chin in her hand and turned his face to face her. He nodded gently, his eyes sliding closed as Angie tried to re-assure him that everything was going to be all right.  
  
But really, she was trying to convince herself.  
  
"Angie, I'll take him now." Jack said, stepping up behind them when he saw the tears beginning to fall from her eyes. "Mush'll take him back ta Kloppman, we'll get him a docta." He heaved Race to his wobbly feet and handed him to Mush, who started running back towards Midtown, carrying Race as if he was a doll.  
  
Blink went with him, and Angie could hear him yell, "Boy, when Race wakes up he'se gonna kill ya for carryin him like some giol or somethin'....."  
  
Angie smiled despite heself.  
  
"Now go inside an kill the bitch that did this." Jack whispered after the two had disappeared from sight, eyes hot with anger. Angie nodded and Jack reached out to hug her, letting her tears soak the shoulder of his vest before pulling her back to look into her face.  
  
"Are ya sure ya wanna do this alone?" he asked, eyes softening as they roamed over her face, streaked with tears and dirt.  
  
"Yes, for the five millionth time. Now, even more than ever." She replied angrily. "I have to go now. I'm sure Ida's waiting, and when she finds Race gone...." She trailed off and pulled her arms away from Jack, readjusting her knife and pulling her hat down lower over her eyes to hide the fear in them.  
  
Jack nodded in understanding, scarily handsome in the lamplight, and pushed her towards the door. "Go. Now. Don't look back."  
  
Angie turned and ran in, slamming the door shut behind her, not looking back....not even once.  
  
If she did, she couldn't trust herself to go back in to the horror that was awaiting her.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Angie glanced around the room she had left only a few minutes before. Keeping close to the wall, she searched for Ida.  
  
She saw ugly women and handsome, drunken men; she saw the drugs passed on from person to person; Angie even had the pleasure of viewing a certain man strip completely before he was wrestled into a back room by three hideous "ladies."  
  
But she did not see Ida - with or without her customer - anywhere.  
  
Suddenly, she saw a flash of white skin and black hair, over by the booth in the corner. Looking closely, Angie saw that Ida was just sitting there, calmly sipping from a glass of gin and twirling her fingers. Angie gulped. Apparently, Ida knew what happened and was waiting for her to come back. No sense in keeping a low profile now. She straightened and headed for the booth.  
  
"It's about time you returned." The smooth, cultured voice sent shivers up Angie spine and she slid on the red velvet across from her aunt.  
  
"Yeah, well, couldn't leave you alone." Angie retorted, looking sharply at the other woman's calm façade. Something was off here, but she wasn't sure what.... yet.  
  
"My, my, aren't we the cocky one. I see you have retrieved....Racetrack, was it?" Ida sniffed. "All these young boys look alike to me. However, this is not over yet. You may have your hostage back, but I still hold the trump card."  
  
Angie marveled at this woman's attitude. She still had the absolute audacity to sniff and smile smugly at her downtrodden niece, even while she was dressed as a hooker, knew perfectly well that tens of newsies were just waiting outside for her to make one wrong move and that Angie was most certainly armed.  
  
Some things never change, Angie smiled grimly to herself.  
  
"And what is that?" Angie replied just as calmly. Two could play this game. "You have nothing left to hold over me. In fact, I have many things I should be holding over YOU, Ida dear. How long do you think it will take me to tell the police all about you and your little scheme?" She rolled her eyes in feigned disgust. "Not to mention this, er, interesting number you have on."  
  
"Oh, no no no." Ida smirked, taking out a long cigarette from between her breasts and lighting it with the candle on the table. The smoke curled around her dark head as she regarded Angie with cool green eyes. "I have one thing left. And this, I must say, is by far the best."  
  
Angie patience snapped when Ida blew the fragrant smoke in her face. Eyes flashing, Angie flicked her knife open and lunged across the table, the tip of the shiny steel pressed into Ida's throat.  
  
"Tell.....me......now." Angie said through gritted teeth. "I have no patience for your fun and games."  
  
"I would put that away if I were you." Ida said, cool and collected. "Petey wouldn't like to know that his best employee was being threatened."  
  
She gestured to the heavy-set man behind the desk in front. He was horrible looking, with yellowed teeth and stubble. His eyes were small and beady, and when he caught Angie looking at him he licked his lips and winked at her. Angie shuddered. This man was just as evil as Ida, she could tell.  
  
"Wait a minute......" Angie said slowly, withdrawing the knife a bit. "I thought I killed you that last time. How did you survive?"  
  
"That was the easy part, you little fool." The older woman replied with a nasty smile. "You missed my heart, and the knife went in a few inches into my rib. It only took me a few months to get back in order." Her red nails crept up the front of her dress, tugging at the forest-green lace neckline. "Would you like to see the scar?"  
  
"You bitch!" Angie yelled, all her anger boiling up to the surface. "How could you live? I killed you! Why do you care so much about me! Why can't you just leave me alone?" She jumped up and ran around the table, punching Ida in the face so hard her head snapped back and she went down.  
  
People were starting to notice the commotion, and Angie saw Petey heading over to them. It was now or never - Ida was in the perfect position for Angie to plunge her little knife straight into her heart. It would be so easy. Angie knew she would have no trouble getting out - trip a few people here and there, run out screaming for the bulls, and no one would follow her. This was an illegal institution, after all. Petey, especially, wouldn't want any bulls here.  
  
But no matter how much Angie willed herself to do it, she just couldn't. Ida was still moaning, lying across the booth bench. She had probably never been punched before in her life. That or my arm is better than I think, Angie mused.  
  
Other men and women were beginning to perk up, but violence was all in days work in this place. No one would come running until she drew the knife again, in plain view. Even then, Angie had a good chance of escaping. Petey was the only problem, but he was so heavy Angie had no doubt that she could outrun him.  
  
It was the plunging and killing part that bothered her. Before, it was a matter of life and death - kill or be killed. Angie, now, had no guarantee Ida was going to kill her. Blackmail her, threaten her, but kill her? Not this time.  
  
All these thought flew through her head at lightening fast pace. Angie's hair whipped around her face and she whirled her head from side to side quickly, checking out the situation and her options. She fidgeted, trying watching the room and Ida at the same time.  
  
Anything but killing. She just couldn't do it this time.  
  
Then again, would she ever be safe as long as Ida was around?  
  
She only had a few seconds left before Petey reached the booth. He was struggling to get thought a tight knot of women who were fighting over one particularly rich-looking gent that had just walked in.  
  
Her mental clock was ticking. And she still had no idea what to do.  
  
Another moan from Ida brought Angie back to earth. She looked at her knife, at Ida; her knife, at Ida again.  
  
At the people around them, at Petey.  
  
At the knife again.  
  
And then a light bulb went on in her head.  
  
Quick as a flash, Angie yanked her aunt up off the bench and stuck the knife in Ida's hand. Dazedly, Ida gripped the weapon and stood up straight.  
  
Slipping behind Ida, Angie pushed the woman through the crowd to Petey and took Ida's arm, raising it for her above her head.  
  
Petey was right in front of them.  
  
Ida didn't realize what was happening until it was much to late.  
  
The older woman's hand came crashing down with a sharp flash of steel, heading straight for Petey's vast stomach. Angie used her aunt's hand to shove the knife deep into the man's body before she dropped her grip on Ida's arm, and stepped aside.  
  
No one even noticed she was there. Everyone was focused on Ida, and the sight of the delicate hand on the knife that was causing blood to gush out of Petey's abdomen. Petey, for his part, was staring stupidly at the sight of his own blood staining the floor.  
  
Ida turned to Angie standing next to her, outside the circle of horrified onlookers. Her red mouth opened and closed like a fish's, staring at the girl who was smiling contently at her.  
  
Angie pointed to Petey, and Ida's green gaze slowly traveled from her niece to the blood running over her hand, to the women gathered around her, eyes wide in shock.  
  
"Oh my god......"  
  
"Knew this one was a first-class bitch."  
  
"Petey? Oh Lord, Petey......"  
  
The whispers of the women were already starting.  
  
Angie had the pleasure of looking at her aunt one last time, finally defeated, before running towards the exit, wiping her bloodied hand on her skirt.  
  
She was halfway out the door before she heard the shout.  
  
"Murder! Call the bulls! MURDER!!"  
  
//////\/\/\/\/\//\/\/\/\/\/\/\\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\\ /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/  
  
Ok, I hope you liked!  
  
So here are the shout outs. Yeah, yeah, I know I rock. Just review and I'll be happy. Alright then, here we go.  
  
Spotted One: The old hag has arisen! She enjoys! This makes my day...my week....when your young time passes slowly, no? Ha ha. Just kidding! (well, sorta.) Thank you for everything!! Mwah!  
  
Rhap: Trust me, all I want to do is shag Jack senseless. But of course I can't, right? *evil eyes* hahahahah.  
  
Priscialla: Jack's my baby! My medicine! We should just bottle Jack and sell it or something......make a bundle.  
  
Divinity: Author alert list! Wow! So cool! Glad you like!  
  
Klutz: Glad you laughed, cried, etc! That is my humble point. Thank you! Keep reading and feeling!  
  
Rede: I swallow? What the.....anyway, thank you so much for all your reviews!! Keep reading and enjoying my sucky cliffhangers!  
  
Bella: Here's another hot update! Glad it put you in a good mood. Shucks, it does that to me too. (  
  
Rumor: RaceLove.....oh yeah. That's good. Very nice. Keep reading! *Night fever niiiiiiiggghhhhtt fever.....*  
  
Appolliana: well, this wasn't quite Crouching Tiger but I hoped you liked anyhoo! Thanks you for all the reviews!  
  
Lilly Fairy and Dark Angel: Against all odds you have read and enjoyed. *Bestows Reader Medal of Valor* Thank you, thank you. You can all clap now.  
  
Shortie: I ENDED IT THAT WAY!!! HAHAH!! Well, here's more. Hope you enjoy!  
  
KatFightOnSkis: kick's butt! Kissing! What could be better?  
  
Angel: Haha. Yes, I do like to torture in my spare time. Wanna come over sometime? Ha. Well, here's more! Hope you like! 


	17. Twists

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I am so desperate to get this chapter out, and so so so so busy (trust me, you have no idea) that I'm so sorry, I can't do shoutouts. But as always, you all make my life worth living!! Kisses and I promise shoutouts in the next chapter!!!  
"Great day for sellin, huh?" Jack smiled as he slapped down the dollar for two hundred papers.  
  
Angie grinned back at him tiredly and rubbed her sore arm. The headline on the front of the paper Jack held up for her inspection proclaimed:  
  
SOCIALITE TURNED PROSTITUTE ARRESTED FOR MURDER  
  
Jack wouldn't need any fake headlines today.  
  
All the newsies were in great moods, with the prospects of selling as high as they were. But Angie was tired and sore, and more than a little deflated.  
  
She recounted the events of just a few hours ago. Had it really been so recently? It felt like a million years to her, here in the bright sunshine of the paper distribution "office", laughter and pale yellow dust floating around her.  
  
The night before she had run out of the Scarlet Door, nimbly dodging out of the way of the policemen who were starting to swarm inside. Angie had hit Jack square in the chest, and he grabbed her and everyone started running back to the Lodging House, silent and scared.  
  
No one knew what had happened, after all, there in the chaotic nightclub. It took Angie three extra hours out of her precious sleep time to tell everyone everything.  
  
"Geez, Angie, at leat it's all ovah." Jack had reassured her when they were back in the bunkroom, pulling her close.  
  
"I know...." She had replied tiredly, as they heard the rest of the boys started up the stairs for bed. "It just seems so....I don't know, like a waste."  
  
"A waste?" Jack asked her, tilting her head up to face him.  
  
"Yeah...I don't know how to explain it, but it just seems so sudden and over. What's the word.....an anti-climax, that's it. A waste to go through all that when it's over so soon."  
  
"Silly." Jack laughed, ruffling her hair. But he didn't kiss her, and Angie vaguely wondered why not. "That's you, always looking foah some excitement. Nevah satisfied with tha usual."  
  
And then they had gone off to bed, Angie troubled and her heart racing, Jack snoring peacefully across the room.  
  
She had lain awake until about an hour before they all got up to sell, thinking about everything. It was so much to take in! Now that she had time to mull over it, her kiss(es?) with Jack seemed spur of the moment, in the heat of the moment type of things. Nothing really meaningful.  
  
And that thought hurt more than anything else that had happened.  
  
What if Jack really hadn't meant it? What if he regretted it? Even worse - what if he laughed about it?  
  
But what if she was just obsessing?  
  
None of her fears had been quelled since last night, and here she was, standing next to Jack, laughing with him, smiling at the rest of the boys, and there was nothing she could do about it.  
  
"How's Race?" She asked Blink, who had come just then from the lodging house. Race was still in bed, weak from lack of food and poor conditions. Angie still hadn't gotten the story out of him. More than afraid to upset Race, she was a little bit scared to hear the details.  
  
"Ah, he's fine. Complanin about not bein able ta sell an' all that. Wants ya, Angie, ta come when you'se done sellin." Blink smiled and punched Mush, who had crept up behind him.  
  
"Great sellin today. But as many as ya can." Jack said, watching as his boys almost bought the place out. "Angie, at least somethin' good cam outta all this."  
  
"I would have rather it never happened in the first place." Angie snapped, suddenly on edge.  
  
"Who, babe, I'se jest messin with ya." Jack said, holding his hand out, palms facing her in the classic stance of 'I'm innocent.' "Of course none of us wanted this. Whattay think?"  
  
"I'm sorry." Angie sighed, taking her papers and tucking them underneath her arm. She had to sell alone today, with Race sick and all. "I'll talk to you later, Jack.....Jack?"  
  
But Jack wasn't paying a bit of attention to her. He was watching, instead, as two street peddlers started fighting over a customer.  
  
"Uh, yeah, sure." Jack mumbled, concentration on the fists starting to fly. "I'll speak ta ya lata."  
  
Shoulder sagging in defeat, Angie stepped off the sidewalk into the street to start her day.  
  
She had never felt more alone in her life.  
  
Obviously Jack regretted all of it. He probably didn't even remember anything. What was she, a fool? Angie thought bitterly to herself. That Jack would change for me, that everything would change? He will always be an immature boy, always be the leader.  
  
He'll always be insensitive and arrogant and he regrets everything that happened.  
  
Blinking back angry tears, Angie hawked the headline, and sold five papers in five minutes. Cheering up a bit from the jangle of coins in her pocket, she smiled at the next customer, a little boy around three years old, well dressed with cute dimples.  
  
"Hey, big goy." Angie smiled, crouching down to his height. "Mommy send you to buy a paper?"  
  
"Yep." The boy answered, but blue eyes staring at her. "Mommy says she wants a paper, but that I should only give you the....um, the copper coin." He looked into his palm doubtfully, at the nickels and quarters and pennies jumbled together.  
  
Then he looked back at his mother and leaned in close to Angie, to whisper in her ear. Grinning, Angie listened to his breathy confession. "I dunno which one it is." The little boy said conspiratorially.  
  
"Well." Angie said, pulling back a bit to face this adorable kid. "First tell me, what's your name?"  
  
"Timmy."  
  
"Well, Timmy, it's like this. See the little tiny silver one?" He nodded. "That's a dime. This big silver one? That's a quarter. The medium silver one is a nickel, and this one - " She plucked a penny out of his collection and held in front of Timmy's face. "That's a penny."  
  
"Oh." Timmy said, fascinated. Angie ruffled his hair and handed him his paper, taking care to fold in half - just in case this kid could read. She didn't want him to read the headline.  
  
"Off you go, now. Your mother's gonna wonder where you've been." Nodding, Timmy scampered off, smearing newsprint all over his crisp white shirt. His mother, at the corner of the street, was a slender brunette of about thirty, simply dressed but with excellent taste.  
  
Angie watched them wistfully, noticing how the mother swept Timmy up in her arms and he ran to her. She never had a family like that.....  
  
Now that she thought of it, thought, the woman looked a bit familiar. And the woman was looking at her as well, watching Angie with the puzzled look of recalling a face but not the name.  
  
Whoever she was, it was probably the scar that's throwing her off, Angie thought. I might know her, maybe she's one of Ida's old friends.  
  
Shrugging, Angie raised a paper and was about to shout again when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turing, she looked into the warm blue eyes, so like Timmy's, of Timmy's mother....and now Angie recognized her.  
  
"Mrs. Hathaway! How are you?" Angie said in complete surprise. "What are you doing on this side of town?"  
  
"Angie? Angie March? My goodness, what happened to you?" Mrs. Hathaway's eyes roamed over Angie's scarred face, dirty shirt and scuffed shoes.  
  
"Oh, well." Angie muttered, face down. "I trust you heard about what happened last night...." She held up a paper. "This is the only way I was able to make a living."  
  
"You poor, poor child." Mrs. Hathaway sniffed, holding Timmy tight. "I remember when you were just as tall as Timmy here. And Ida was such a good mother to you...."  
  
Angie almost choked at that, but the nice woman just kept talking. "It seems to me you have fallen on hard times. I would never have believed Ida would do such a thing! And now she's gone....such a pity. Who are you living with?"  
  
"I stay at the Newsboy's Lodging House....as you can see, I'm a newsie now." Angie grinned at Timmy who was squirming in his mother's grasp.  
  
"The Newsboy's....gracious!" Mrs. Hathaway, ever the proper lady, was taken aback. "Are you happy there, at least, my dear?"  
  
A few weeks ago Angie would have answered yes without a second thought. Of course she was happy there, away from Ida and her old life. But now....  
  
"I suppose." Angie sighed, letting the doubt creep into her voice. "It's better than starving, at least."  
  
"My poor child." The older woman said, allowing her son to finally free himself and dart off of to a puppy that some other lady was walking. "Such a blessing I had to come to this part of town to pick up something for my husband, and now I've met you."  
  
She looked at Angie with a small smile, eyes lit up. Angie remembered that this woman had always been the nicest of Ida's friends. It was a wonder that they had become friends at all.  
  
"What would you say to breakfast, my dear?" Mrs. Hathaway asked. "My treat. Timmy's been complaining anyway."  
  
"Oh, I couldn't.....my papers....."  
  
"Nonsense. I know a wonderful little place right around here. Over lunch, I have something I'd like to discuss with you. You will have time to sell later. This is a great opportunity."  
  
"What's that?" Angie asked, walking along with the lady and Timmy, who had been rescued from that puppy - almost as big as he was - and was now skipping along gaily, Angie's hand clenched in his.  
  
"Over some food, we'll talk about it."  
  
And that was all Mrs. Hathaway would say, all the way to the posh little restaurant. 


	18. Understandings

[Disclaimer: Wow, I haven't don't this in awhile. I do not own newsies. My lifelong dream is not fulfilled.]

[Sorry this has taken so long! Lots of stuff going on. Oh, well, I hope you enjoy! The end is coming soon!]

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

"What do ya mean, you'se LEAVIN?" Jack bellowed, storming into the bunkroom, waving a clean white shirt in his hand.

"How did you find out already?" Angie asked with a small smile. She snatched the shirt from Racetrack's hand, folded it up, and placed in her canvas bag, next to her neatly folded nightgown.

"I went downstairs," Jack said, fuming, "and Blink came ovah ta me, handed me that shirt, and said that I should bring it up to ya cause ya have ta leave in about ten minutes." 

"Blink." Angie shook her head, smoothing the last of her garments into the bag and buttoning it closed. "He never knows when to keep his mouth shut. I wanted to tell you in person."

"WHAT THE HELL DO YA THINK YOAH DOIN?" Jack yelled, so loud dust fell from the ceiling. Angie winced and covered her ears.

"You should be happy for me, Jack. Everyone else is. I got myself a real job, now. No more pity sells with the papes."

"A real job wit what?"

"A nanny for a Mrs. Hathaway, for her son Timmy. Quite a cute little bugger he is, too." Angie smiled at the memory and hefted the suitcase onto her shoulder.

Her bunk was clean, the sheets she had hung from underneath Race's bunk for privacy gone, the mattress bare, dust already setting onto the straw-filled canvas. Her entire life was in her bag, all her memories, everything that mattered to her. Once she walked out of the room that had housed her for this long past year, it would be like Angie had never been there.

"Ya can't leave." Jack said, his eyes flashing. He gripped her forearms rightly. "I wont let ya."

"You may be able to play with my heart, Jack, but I wont let you play with my mind," Angie snorted, pushing past him. "I'm leaving. My new address is 3454 5th Avenue. If you want, you can sneak past the doorman to visit me."

"What did ya say?" Jack asked, still as a statue.

"I said, you can visit me if you want."

"No, befoah that."

Angie froze as well when she realized what had slipped out. Should she tell Jack what she said? Or she should she just……no. she would tell him, straight out. She was never one for games. Taking a deep breath, she turned around and faced Jack, stepping close enough that she was invading his personal space.

"I said, you can play with my heart, but I wont let you play with my mind." She whispered, staring into his face, anger set on every one of her features.

"Play with yoah heart?" Jack was puzzled. Angie wasn't sure if he was acting or not, but if he was he was doing a damn good job of it.

"Oh, for God's sake, Jack. You know what I'm talking about. _Yesterday_? When you _kissed_ me? Do you even remember any of that? And now your avoiding me like the plague………." Jack's face was expressionless, and Angie felt tears prick her eyes. "You know what, I don't even know why I'm talking to you."

She did an about face and walked out of the room. 

Jack didn't even try to follow her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clink.

Clink.

"Angie………"

"Shhhh."

"Angie………."

"Timmy, shhhh.…I'm thinking."

"But……"

"Shhh."

Sighing, Timmy went back to playing with his toy trains, watching with little-boy pity as his new nanny stared at the ceiling, lying in his bed, throwing pennies into a cup on the floor. She had surprisingly good aim.

"Timmy, have you ever loved someone? Loved someone so much that it hurts whenever you look at them? I mean, I don't love Jack that much, but still, you never know, and maybe I'll never see him again………….."

Angie babbled to the three year old as the child rolled his eyes and continued playing. For the last day and half, ever since Angie had come, she had been depressed and mopey. 

"Angie………." Timmy started to tell his nanny to shut up and let him concentrate on his intricate little railroad here.

"Shh, Timmy, I'm trying to think."

Clink. 

Clink.

As the pennies fell neatly into the tin cup, Angie contemplated her life. It was going better now that it ever had before – good job, food, clean clothes, roof over her head, cute kid.

But she didn't have Jack, and it didn't look like she was going to get him anytime soon. 

The hardest part wasn't that she didn't have him – the hardest part was that she wasn't sure. Did he like her? Did her not? He didn't even say goodbye……..but those kisses……….

_Oh, this is making my head hurt_. Angie rolled over onto her stomach and watched as Timmy pulled the bright-red engine through his pillow tunnel, beeping and chugging away.

She smiled. _He really is cute. I have so much to be thankful for. Jack's not the only guy out there. I'll find another guy eventually. So stop whining, Angie, and get to the job at hand._

She jumped down, grabbed a startled Timmy, and, in a much better mood than she had been a moment ago, tickled her change and grinned at his hysterical laughter.

"Dammit, Jack, watch wah you'se goin." Mush yelped as hot water splashed onto his bare chest. "And why're ya takin a bath, anyway? You'se haven't had one of those in oh, three weeks." Mush eyed the sloshing tub doubtfully. "Sure ya remember whatyer doin?"

"Shut up, Blink." Jack muttered, thinking so hard he didn't even have the energy to yell at Mush.

What the hell was with Angie? That's all he could say at the moment. One minute she was cold, the next minute she was hot. He couldn't keep track of it. And now she was leaving. LEAVING! What did she think she was doing?

"Missing Angie, aren't' ya?" Race said gloomily, somewhere behind the tub. Jack listened without turning around. "I wanna go visit her, but I forgot her address."

"I dunno it." Jack said, scrubbing his chest. " She didn't tell me either." That was, in fact, a lie, but Race did not have to know that. He didn't want anyone seeing Angie before he could work this whole thing out.

"Liar." Said Race absently, as though he expected this reaction. "Ya jist don't realize in yoah thick-headedness what 's wrong with her, so yoah basically freezin her out until it comes to ya."

"What! I don't – "

"Ah, shut yoah trap." Race interrupted Jack's spluttering. Race was feeling physically much better, with Kloppman's care and lots of rest. Emotionally was another story……

 "This whole thin's getting on me noive's already. You two are like a romance novel or somethin. Just pull yoahself togethah and go apologize." He walked over to the sinks and began to splash water on his sweaty face.

"Yeah, well, if I knew what was wrong with hioh, I would." Jack mumbled under his breath, scrubbing his hair. But Race caught it.

"Ya can't be serious." Race turned a dripping face to his friend, who was just dunking his head under the water to get out the soap.

"What? I didn't heah you." Jack said, shaking his head like a dog and climbing out the tub.

" I SAID, ya big oaf, you can't not realioze what is wrong with Angie." The Italian boy shook his head and dried his face with a towel. "I hoid that whole conversation when ya found out she was leaving. Honestly, I dunno why she puts up with ya."

"Whattya mean? I didn't do nothin! So, we kissed! Big deal! It's not like were gonna get married or anythin! Besides – "

"Listen to youhself!" Race turned around angrily. "Angie is the closest thing ta sister I'se got! If you hurt her anymore that ya slready have, I will kill ya. Don't look at me like dat," He said to Jack's smirking face. "You know what I can do when I'm angry." The smirk disappeared.

"So tell me what ta do, Race." Jack said tiredly, flopping down on a bench. "I ain't got no clue what's bothering her."

"I'll tell ya what's botherin her." Race said, sitting next to Jack. "Ya kissed her, right? And then whattiya you do?"

"Well, nothin….."

"Exactly. Ya kissed her, and did nothin. How do ya think she feels?"

"Well, I didn't want her ta think that I was usin her. I wanted to take it slow, ya know. Not like tha other goils."

"Why didn't ya tell her that? Or at least do _somethin_? She's been tellin me everythin. That kiss was in tha heat of tha moment, maybe, but ya still said that it meant somethin. How can ya jist leave her hangin like dat, pretendin everythin is normal, and not expect her ta be pissed as hell at ya?" He paused and looked at Jack's astonished face. "Even you should know dat giols need a lot of attention and stuff like dat."

"Well," Said Jack stubbornly, crossing his arms over his naked chest, "She should'da realized what I meant." But even to his ears, that sounded stupid and childish. 

Race laughed and punched him in the arm. "Go get heah, before she realizes what an idiot the love of heah life is and leaves ya. 3454 5th Avenue. Now. Get dressed." He got up, leaving a dazed Jack.

"Love of her life……? Did she really say that?"

"Oops." Race turned bright red and hurried out the door. "I wasn't supposed ta tell you dat…."

Elated, Jack jumped up and ran to his bunk. 

_3454 5th Avenue. The love of her life, she said. I better get there now, and get her back. I've been such an idiot….I only hope it's not too late…3454 5th Avenue. I better remember that. I hope she hasn't forgotten me…..wait, she's not that stupid….gotta  hurry, or else….._

These thoughts running through his head, Jack bolted down the stairs and out the door.

The love of his life was waiting. 

And behind the door jam, Race slipped his hat on his head and smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am so, so sorry this took so long. You don't even want to KNOW what was going on…….but whatever, here is Angie, once again! And the wait for the end is almost over! Yay!

**Ember**: No, the restaurant was not Tibby's. Tibby's is cute, but it ain't posh! Thanks for reading!

**Rumor**: Timmy is actually one of my favorite characters. I cannot believe that the story isn't over yet, but it will be soon (omg, 18 chapters!) and I hope I will be able to add more of him in. Thanks for R/R!

**coco_1116**: Making Anige not a mary-sue was my biggest priority. I'm gald you enhoyed!

**JP:** My man! Hey! We will talk so, I hope…school is finally over and I have not so much to do… they still have AIM in Chicago, thank god! Luffles!

**Priscilla:** I LIVE to keep you hooked!

**Morgan Jacobs:** Thanks for checking this one out! Angie is not, in fact, modeled after me (not that much, anyway) but I like her all the same.

**Misprint:** Here is the next chapter! And here is your knife. (well, actually Davey is not in this chapter but whatever….)

**Rhap:** I know, Jack is such an idiot. And here is your twist ice cream! *gives over a delicious twist ice cream that looks sooo good in the heat right now* 

**JosiahGirl:** I am glad you are impressed. I live to impress. Among many other things.

**Serina:** I'm glad your into it! If only I had time to be that into it….anyway. Don't worry bout Mrs. Hathaway. She's a nice lady. Thanks for R/R!

**KatFightOnSkis**: More, at your service. You will see how Angie overcomes all odds to be with Jack! *cue sappy music*

**Apollonia:** *shhh* We don't want anyone to know what's going on. Thanks for R/R, as always!

Ok, here you go. I will try to post again soon!

Luffles!


	19. Happiness

PLEASE NOTE: Anything in BOLD LETTERS is a THOUGHT. I meant to do them in Italics, the conventional way, but I decided to be different. Ha. No, the real reason is that the Italics don't work for some reason on FFN, so I had to do them bold. Thank you. Enjoy!*

Mrs. Hathaway was suitably surprised, to say the least.

Here she was, calmly sitting in her parlor, sipping tea. And then the hammering started on the door, startling her so badly she dropped her cup on her lap, jumped up screaming, and brought all the servants running.

Everyone was so busy with the Mrs. that they forgot all about the person at the door – even Jasper, the faithful butler, who had never ignored a door in his entire life. He was presently engaged with his employer – dunking her in ice while calming her down. 

The knocking construed, incessant hammering on the oak door that would have driven everyone crazy had they bothered to listen to it. Eventually, it stopped. And Jack was still outside the fancy townhouse, scratching his head. Something was going on, he knew. He heard the screams all the way outside.

**Well, if you want to do this right, a little screaming inside the house shouldn't stop you, Jackey-boy.**

Jack ran to the back of the house, trampling rose bushes and some other yellow flower underneath his scuffed shoes. Frantic, the screams echoing only heightening his frustration, Jack peered inside each and every window he passed.

All were empty, and Jack marveled for a few minutes at the richness of the rooms he glimpsed. Carpets, painting, china…..everything was so incredible to him that he momentarily forgot that he was on a mission. 

This is what he wanted, what he was meant for…….the luxuries and things the wealthy possessed  - so much _stuff_ that it astounded him just to think about what it _cost_……..

The screams inside reached an even higher pitch, snapping Jack back into the moment and hurrying his step. Whatever was inside the house must be awful, and he didn't want any part of it.

The next room he looked into  - the last one on the ground flood – was empty except for a small bed, wardrobe and pitcher stand. It looked so plain compared to the rest of the house……Jack smiled. Servants quarters. And the newsboy hat lying innocently on the covers of the bed finished his thought.

**Bingo.**

Now the question was – how to get into the house? Jack ran a hand through his dirty hair and contemplated his options.

**I could open the window….dammit, it's stuck. Break it? Nah, that would just get her in trouble….don't want that…..servant's door? Don't seem like a good time right now…….**

Movement inside the room alerted Jack. Ducking, he peeked, very slowly raising his head over the sill. And gulped.

This was Angie's room, all right. The girl in question was walking into her room, wearing a robe that was gaping in front, giving Jack quite a nice view of Angie's considerable assets. She was rubbing her hair dry with a linen cloth, evidently coming from a bath. Her face was pink, her cheeks and lips a rosy red. Her scar stood out in stark relief, white against the blush of her face. Dark wet hair fell unevenly around her shoulders, and when Angie looked up her eyes sparkled green. 

She was the most beautiful thing Jack had ever seen.

You're such a wuss, Jackey-boy. Honestly, you keep thinking like this, and then you're gonna say something out loud….you'll never live up to the teasing……

Grinning, Jack planned the easiest way to surprise Angie. Jump up in front of the glass and say "Boo!"? She was still plenty mad at him. Her last words came flashing back into his mind – 

**_"Oh, for God's sake, Jack. You know what I'm talking about. _****Yesterday_? When you _kissed _me? Do you even remember any of that? And now your avoiding me like the plague……….You know what, I don't even know why I'm talking to you."_**

He mentally cringed when he remembered his reaction. He was so stunned that he wasn't able to move a muscle, thought whirling around in his head so fast then when he was finally able to think straight, sort out emotions he never felt before, Angie was gone, leaving him more drained and hollow than he ever thought possible.

Muted voices floated through the crack between the window and the sill, and Jack was snapped out of his reverie, startled when he realized he had sunk down into a sitting position, back against the rough shingles of the house. The seat of his pants were filthy, and he tried to discreetly brush them off as he stool up slowly, to peek into Angie's room and see who was talking to her.

Angie was standing with her back to him, looking out the door and speaking……

**That's strange. She isn't talking to anyone……oh, wait, that little bugger. Must be her kid. **

The child was gesturing with his hands frantically, and Angie was calming him while ushering him out the door. She hugged him quickly, wet hair flopping, and closed the door behind his little back. 

Jack continued watching the scene, puzzled, as Angie stood for a moment with her back against the door, with a puzzled look on her face that matched his own. Shrugging, she turned her back to him once again, removing a shirt and white lacy thing from the simple pine wardrobe in the corner……..

All too late, Jack realized what was about to happen – 

**Oh, shit.**

And then Angie dropped her robe to her waist.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Angie calmed a frantic Timmy down, smoothing his hair back while he babbled to her in flashing child-speak.

"And then, and then, she – she jumped up, and I saw, I did, and I saw her scream, something's wrong with Mama – "

"Timmy – "

"Something's wrong, I know it, Angie, you gotta h-help her……" The sentence ended with sobs and hiccups.

"Timmy, shh." Angie murmured, already noting that the screams had died down a bit. She had come out of the bath to sound of Mrs. Hatahway shrieking away, and had hurried to her room to dress so she could investigate. And now Timmy was holding her up.

"Just let me get dressed, and I'll be right there, okay, dear?" She whispered next to the child's ear, holding his little hands in her own. "Just give me a few minutes, alright?"

"Oh, Angie, w-what's gonna happen to her?" He choked out, rubbing his eyes frantically.

Angie smiled over his head. He was so cute when he was emotional. "I'll be right there, okay? Just hold on. Come on now," she said, pushing him out the door. "I'll be there soon." 

Frowning, Angie shut the door gently and turned to her chest of drawers. Thoughtfully but quickly, she pulled out her undershirt and camisole, shaking her wet hair out the way.

**That's strange. What could possible make Mrs. Hathaway scream to long and so hard? Damn these camisoles. Just…get….on…..**

Her robe sagged around her waist as Angie struggled with the lacy piece of cloth. Why could they just make these things smaller, or better yet, wear nothing at all? For all the time it took for her to become properly dressed (as Mrs. Hathaway directed) she could be in and out of her newsies clothes three times.

Finally, Angie managed to button the last tiny button on her camisole and reached for her undershirt.  The movement caused the camisole, hastily buttoned, to snap back open, and Angie groaned with frustration as she hiked the garment back over her chest. At this rate, Timmy would be scarred for life by the time she got out of this damn room.

Suddenly, Angie froze. Underneath the screaming from the hallway and the babble of exited voices she could hear a very faint scuffling. And it sounded very close…

**It that's a mouse I'm gonna scream.**

Carefully, Angie grabbed the water pitcher on the stand next to her bed and hefted it in her hands. Slowly, she tiptoed around the bed to the other side, and lifted the blanket to peer under the bed. Jumpy and agitated with the though of a mouse zipping out, Angie saw nothing, but next scuffling sound made her bolt upright.

And face the window, where Jack's face was in the weirdest expression she Angie had ever seen.

And then she shrieked. The water pitcher went flying, hitting the wall and shattering, dousing the already scantily-clad girl with warm water. Still yelling, she folded her arms across her now transparent chest and grabbed the blanket from the bed, throwing it over her shoulders. Then and only then did she stop yelling. With a furious face Angie marched over to the window and yanked it open.

"What the hell are you doing here, Jack?" She hissed. "I work here! You can't be here! How long have you been standing by the window?"

"Uh – "

"I thought so, you pervert. You were always so predictable." Angie shook her wet head, sprinkling Jack's face with water. The touch of the liquid on his flushed skin seemed to wake him up.

"Actually, Angie, I know's exactly why I'se heah." Jack said, boldly looking straight into Angie rapidly darkening green eyes. "I'm heah cause I want's ta be. I'm heah ta see you. I'm heah……….." He paused, losing his nerve.

"Yes? To ruin my life again?"  Angie said angrily. How dare he! 

"No! No – uh, no. That's not why I'se heah. I'm heah – "

"You know what, Jack? Cut the excuses. I don't need you. In fact – " Angie smiled smugly. "I'm very happy here. I've already found someone else."

This Jack had NOT been expecting. Puzzled, Jack looked into Angie's face. Her nostrils were flaring.

**Bingo. She's lying.**

"Oh, really?" Jack said, a fake look of hurt on his face. "What's his name?"

"Uh – " Angie stammered. This turn of events was not to her licking. But it was she who had dug this hole. This time. 

**What name of a guy does Jack not know? Shoot, the only name I can think of is… **

"It's Racetrack." Angie blurted out. "He saw what you did to me and moved right in." Clapping a hand over her mouth, Angie realized what she just said.

"Racetrack? RACETRACK? Oh my god……" Jack was barley able to hold his straight face for more than a minute before he dissolved into insane laughter. Holding onto the window frame for dear life, his howls caught on, and Angie started to giggle to, in spite of herself. After a few moments they both stopped, and looked at each other with somber faces.

"I can't let you do this to me again, Jack." Angie whispered. "I just can't. I cannot deal with you leaving me, deserting me, hot and cold and back again…."

"Angie." Jack took Angie's cheek in his, stroking her scar, up and down her face. "I would nevah do that ta ya. All I wanted ta do was take it slow…I didn't want you ta think I'se only had one thing on me mind….I didn't want ta rush into anythin. I love ya mor'n that."

Angie sucked in her breath. **_Did he say what I thought he said?_**__

"You……love me?" Angie said, bewildered. 

"Oh, god." Jack muttered, face rapidly changing from pink to red. "I knew it. I knew ya didn't feel tha same…" He took his hand off her face and backed away. "I'll jist go now."

Go and kill myself.

But what Angie did next shocked him to the core. Laughing and giddy, she grabbed the back of his frayed shirt and swung him around to face her. Angie grabbed Jack's handsome face and kissed him quickly.

"Jack! How can you be such an idiot?" Angie giggled. "Why in the world would you think that?"

"Think what?" Jack stammered, looking confused. Girls were weird things. You tell them you love them and they laugh at you.

Angie sobered. "Jack, I love you. I always have. And only you – " She tapped his nose, " with newspaper for brains, can't see that."

"But – "

"Jack, just shut up and kiss me." Angie whispered, running her hand through his thick blond hair.

And he did.

Mrs. Hathaway was shocked again, for the second time that day, when she stalked, Timmy in arms, to look to see where in heaven's name his nanny had gotten to. She took one look at Angie leaning half-out the window, locking lips with a scruffy looking boy, but looking so happy Mrs. Hathaway promptly whisked Timmy right out of the room and closed the door with a smile.

"Mommy?" Timmy asked, snuggling into his mother's arms. "Why was Angie out the window?" To this little boy, his normally _normal_ nanny had done some pretty strange things today. Like not come out of her room at all, for instance.

But Mrs. Hathaway grinned and her eyes danced at the though of the young love, happily-ever after ending, she KNEW she had just witnessed.

"Cause she's happy, my dear." Mrs. Hathaway said, ruffling her son's hair. "Because she loves."

Ok, sorry that it took SO SO SO long to get that out. Shoutouts will come in the next chapter, BUT THANK YOU SO MUCH ALL WHO REVIEWED!! I COULDN"T HAVE DONE IT WITHOUT YOU!! 


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